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DR. TUPPY 


By 

STEPHEN TOWNESEND 


Author of “A Thoroughbred Mongrel/’ etc. 


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DR. TUPPY 


By 

STEPHEN TOWNESEND / 

»# 

Author of 

“A Thoroughbred Mongrel,’’ etc. 


NEW YORK 


1912 


Printed in 1912 . 

All rights reserved. 

Copyrighted in the United States by Stephen Townesend. 


o 

©C1.A328632 


How shall we tell an Angel 
From another guest ? 

How, from the common worldly herd 
One of the blest? 

Hint of suppressed halo, 

Rustle of hidden wings, 

Wafture of heavenly frankincense — 
Which of these things? 

The old Sphynx smiles so subtly: 

“I give no golden rule , — 

Yet would I bid thee, World, treat Well 
Whom thou call’st fool.”'* 


* Verses. By Gertrude Hall. William Heinemann. 1890. 



CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I 

“It is vain that we would coldly gaze on such as smile 
upon us: the heart must leap kindly back to kind- 
ness” {Byron) ...... 


CHAPTER II 

“The manner of giving shows the character of the giver, 
more than the gift itself” ( Lavater ) . 


CHAPTER III 

“A mighty hunter, and his prey was man” {Pope) 


CHAPTER IV 

“All stratagems are lawful in revenge” {Ravens croft) . 


CHAPTER V 

“This bud of love, by Summer’s ripening breath 
May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet” 
{Romeo and Juliet) .... 


PAGE 

II 


26 


39 


58 


7 


73 


8 CONTENTS 

CHAPTER VI 

PAGE 

A Cadmean Victory ...... 9° 

CHAPTER VII 

L’idee fixe ........ 108 

CHAPTER VIII 

“ ‘What do you call the Play?’ 

The Mouse-trap’ ” ( Hamlet ) . . 122 


CHAPTER IX 

“The words of his mouth were smoother than butter, 

but War was in his heart” ( Psalm lv.) . . . 134 


CHAPTER X 

“I am escaped with the skin of my teeth” ( Job xix.) . 143 


CHAPTER XI 

“Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind” 

( A Midsummer Night's Dream) . . . 165 


CHAPTER XII 

“And dar’st thou then 
To beard the lion in his den, 

The Douglas in his hall?” (Walter Scott) . 180 


CONTENTS 


9 


CHAPTER XIII 

PAGE 

“First catch your hare ” 193 


CHAPTER XIV 

“As much valour is to be found in feasting as in 
fighting; and some of our city captains and carpet 
knights will make this good, and prove it” 

(Burton, Anatomy of Melancholy ) . . . 203 


CHAPTER XV 

“111 blows the wind that profits nobody” ( Henry VI) . 223 


CHAPTER XVI 

“Walls have ears” 239 


CHAPTER XVII 

“Lit era script a manet” ...... 249 


CHAPTER XVIII 

“Though this be madness, yet there’s method in ’t” 

( Hamlet , Act. ii, Sc. 2) . . . . 258 


CHAPTER XIX 

“Don’t tie with your tongue what you can’t open with 
your teeth” ( Irish Proverb) .... 


274 


10 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER XX 

“Good name in man or woman 
Is the immediate jewel of their souls” ( Othello ) 


CHAPTER XXI 
“Mens sibi conscia recti” ( Virgil ) 


CHAPTER XXII 

“So many Gods, so many creeds, 

So many paths that wind and wind, 

When just the art of being kind 
Is all the sad world needs” ( Ella Wheeler Wilcox) 


PAGE 

♦ 281 

. 290 


. 304 


CHAPTER I 


“It is vain that we would coldly gaze on such as smile upon 
us : the heart must leap kindly back to kindness.” 

Byron. 

I F it had not been for Tuppy — Charles Theophi- 
lus Tuppy, to give him his name in full — many 
things would never have happened which did hap- 
pen ; fortunately, or unfortunately, it remains to be 
seen. 

For, without Charles Tuppy, it is clear that there 
could never have been a Mrs. Charles Tuppy; with- 
out Tuppy, there would have been no “Tuppy’s 
Examination” to make itself famous in the Annals 
of the Medical School (nor indeed any episode like 
it, no one else having been brought into the world 
sufficiently simple and ingenuous not to have dis- 
covered so palpable a fraud at once) ; without 
“Tuppy’s Examination” Mr. Oscar Smith and Mr. 
James Mason would not have been rusticated for 
a year, Mr. Dick Baxter, L.M.S.S.A., would not 
have forfeited his chance of ever coming on to 
the Junior Staff as House Surgeon, and, finally, 
Sister Mary would not have found herself ar- 
raigned for the first and last time before the Court 
of Almoners and Governors of the Hospital. But 
this is to begin at the wrong end of the story. 

11 


12 


DR. TUPPY 


“What is it?” was her mental ejaculation when 
she first set eyes on him. 

She regretted and dismissed the implied sarcasm 
at once, as being not only flippant but unkind. 
He was obviously a male biped of the genus homo, 
for he had the face of a man and he was clad in 
man’s attire. He was absorbed in the contempla- 
tion of the Dressers’ Board which hung on the 
Back Ward door. He stood with his body thrown 
forward, his knees and arms slightly bent, his face 
within an inch of the paper, and his nose tracing 
every line of the writing he was attempting to 
decipher, like a pointer tracking his quarry. 

“Good gracious!” she thought to herself, “he 
must be one of the new batch of Dressers. Heaven 
help me if they’re all like this!” The bi-annual 
change of House Surgeons and Dressers was una- 
voidable, of course, but it was the most trying ordeal 
of Hospital routine. Experience had taught her to 
regard the new Dresser somewhat in the light of a 
wild animal or dangerous explosive. One never 
quite knew what would happen next. The average 
new Dresser — no doubt there were exceptions — 
combined, from a medical point of view, the igno- 
rance of a child with the irresponsibility of a monkey. 
But she had never encountered such a phenomenon 
as this. She was preparing dressings at the front 
Ward table, but she could not help watching him out 
of the corner of her eye. Good Heavens! he was 
coming towards her, his body ambling after his 
protruding head as if in fear that it might fly away. 
Poor young man, could he be quite responsible? 


DR. TUPPY 13 

“G-g-g-good morning, Nurse. C-c-c-can you 
t-tell me where I shall f-find S-s-sister Mary ?” 

“I am Sister Mary.” 

She looked up and saw his face clearly for the 
first time. Then she grinned. It was very rude, of 
course, but really she couldn’t help it. Certainly 
she had an excuse, for the phenomenon was grinning 
too, an infectious and comprehensive grin, in fact 
his every feature beamed with a fatuous amiability. 
She felt sure he smiled even when he was asleep. 
She wished to be polite, but she could not help 
drawing back her head as he peered closely into her 
face. 

“I b-b-beg your pardon,” he stammered, “but 
my s-s-sight is defective. I’ve irregular astig- 
matism, so irregular that no glasses will correct it, 
and I’m slightly colour-blind. I w-w-want to be 
able to know you again. I’m a new Dresser. My 
name is Tuppy.” 

Then she remembered him. This was the student 
whom every one satirized with tolerant irony as 
“Dr.” Tuppy, or dismissed with derision as “Tuppy 
the fool.” 

“But surely you ought to be in the Surgery at 
this time of the morning, Mr. Tuppy. I’m afraid 
you’ll get into trouble.” 

To say that Mr. Tuppy’s face fell would be an 
exaggeration, but his smile for the moment became 
sufficiently attenuated to enable Sister Mary to 
form an opinion as to the character of his features 
when at rest. 

“I d-don’t think so,” he replied pensively, “Mason 


14 


DR. TUPPY 


has just t-told me I was about as much use in a 
Surgery as a b-b-bull in a ch-ch-china shop, Smith 
said I was a s-silly ass, and B-b-baxter very kindly 
took me on one side, and advised me to go and do 
the c-c-customary with the Ward Sisters.” 

“To do the customary with the Ward Sisters?” 
echoed Sister Mary inquiringly. 

“Yes, Baxter said it was a delicate matter and 
required tact, but he told me I was full of tact, 
which I thought very nice of him; but then, you 
know, he’s a great friend of mine and may over- 
estimate my ability.” As he recovered his confidence 
the stammer disappeared from his speech. 

“Yes, yes, but what was it you were to do?” 

“Well,” said Tuppy, diving into his trousers’ 
pocket for a handful of coins of the realm, from 
which he selected a florin, “it’s like this, you see. 
Surgical work is quite new to me. I’ve never 
dressed before. I told Baxter I was afraid I should 
give a lot of trouble in the Wards, and he said that, 
in a case like mine, the customary thing was ” 

Tuppy hesitated and nervously balanced the florin 
on the tip of his forefinger. 

“The customary thing was?” Sister Mary re- 
peated, drawing back a step and looking at the coin 
askance. 

“Well, t-t-to square the Sisters,” he stammered. 

“With a florin?” she asked demurely, and lifted 
her laughing eyes to his. 

Tuppy’s perennial smile was once again chastened 
by the suggestion of a misgiving. He felt there 
was a mistake somewhere, and attributing it to the 


DR. TUPPY 15 

smallness of the amount offered, he most dexter- 
ously substituted a half-crown. 

“Well, Baxter wouldn't specify the exact 
amount/' he replied, “he had such confidence in my 
tact and discretion, but we mutually agreed, on the 
ground of delicacy, that it ought to be small." 

Sister Mary would not have wounded the young 
man's sensibilities for worlds, but her efforts to 
control the volume of laughter that convulsed her 
internally made her feel for a moment on the verge 
of apoplexy. It gurgled up in spasms which she 
painfully choked down, it escaped her in little titters 
which she heroically suppressed, and ended in a loud 
guffaw which she changed into a cough. 

“You must excuse my funny cough," she said 
when she found herself able to speak, “it sounds 
like the whooping cough, doesn't it, but I think 
it's really asthmatic." 

“It's a most interesting cough," replied Tuppy 
with a professional air, “I never heard one quite 
like it, and I've worked three months in the 'Med- 
ical Out-patients.' " He felt that Sister Mary must 
be impressed by his experience, he was a little 
impressed by it himself, and he was pleased that he 
had imparted the startling information with both 
modesty and tact. He had scant opportunity of 
judging of the sensation he had created, for, the 
Little Sister, with hurried excuses, suddenly bolted 
up the Ward like a rabbit, and, disappearing into 
her Sanctum, shut the door with a bang. 

The surprised Tuppy was not left long in doubt 
as to the cause of this precipitate and mysterious re- 


i6 


DR. TUPPY 


treat, for the extraordinary and convulsive .dchin- 
nations proceeding from the recesses of Sister 
Mary’s room proclaimed that she had been seized 
with another asthmatic attack. 

“Dear me,” he said to himself, “this is really very 
sad. It must shake her whole frame.” 

Outside of the Zoological Gardens he had never 
heard such a cough. If a hyaena coughed he felt 
sure it would cough like that. He thought of a 
wonderful mixture he had once compounded, all on 
his own initiative, for an Out-patient who was 
enjoying those vague symptoms, so popular amongst 
the sick poor and described by them as “the windy 
spasms,” and who had incontinently swopped it, as 
patients sometimes do, you know, with another Out- 
patient who was the proud possessor of “an ’acking 
corf.” It is true that “windy spasm” was stricken 
to the point of death, but that was not Tuppy ’s 
fault, and he took great credit to himself that 
“ ’acking corf” made a complete recovery. Tuppy 
set great store on this treatment which he had 
accidentally discovered, and had used on all possible 
occasions ever since. 

He was about to run down to the Dispensary for 
a dose of his favourite palliative, when he noticed 
that the sounds had ceased and that Sister Mary 
was coming towards him, rather flushed in the face, 
if his sight did not deceive him, but in every other 
respect apparently well. She unhooked a painted 
notice board from the wall and placed it in his 
hands. 

“I think, Mr. Tuppy,” she said, “you had tetter 


DR. TUPPY 1 7 

read that — Oh yes, I’ve quite recovered, thank you. 
The danger is in keeping these things in.” 

Tuppy applied his face to the board and read 
aloud as follows : — 

ANY SERVANT OF THE HOSPITAL RECEIVING 
A GRATUITY WILL BE LIABLE TO INSTANT DIS- 
MISSAL. 

“Yes, but this refers to the porters. You're 
not a servant of the Hospital.” 

“Indeed I am,” she replied, “just as much as the 
Dustmen. I wear the 'Hospital livery/ and I’m 
paid 'wages’ ; sixty pounds a year and my washing. 
It isn’t a fortune, is it? but if you had offered me 
half a million of money, instead of half-a-crown, it 
would have been just the same.” 

Then suddenly the scales fell from Tuppy’s eyes, 
and he saw the enormity of the deadly faux pas he 
had committed. Pie had been brought up in an 
environment in which crime was a solecism and 
a solecism was regarded as a crime. His face crim- 
soned with shame. 

“I’m sorry,” he stammered with a catch in his 
voice, “I’m sorry — forgive me — I’m a fool.” His 
lips trembled and the tears started to his eyes. 

Sister Mary placed a quieting hand upon his 
sleeve. 

“There’s nothing to forgive,” she said, “Mr. Bax- 
ter played you a trick — that’s all.” 

“Oh, no, don’t say that. I’m sure he wouldn’t 
do that. He just made a mistake like me.” 

If he had been a little boy of seven, instead of a 
ma of twenty-seven, she would have taken him 


i8 


DR. TUPPY 


on her knee and mothered him. He looked such a 
pathetic object, standing there with a wilted smile, 
his eyes still full of tears, guiltily fumbling with the 
wretched half-crown which he had not the courage 
even to return to his pocket. But he had won her 
respect. He had been loyal to his friend. She 
groped about in her mind for the best way to cheer 
him. 

“I tell you what you might do with your kind 
little offering/’ she said. “There’s Mrs. Wright 
in the Back Ward — No*. 6 Bed — by the way, she’ll 
be one of your cases. If we can only buy her a 
sewing-machine she’ll be able to do for herself when 
she goes out. Nurse Jessop is starting a sub- 
scription, amongst the Nurses of course; but she 
might be willing to accept your donation.” His 
face cleared in an instant. 

“Oh, I wish she would, that would be splendid. 
How kind you are!” 

“It’s you who are kind, Mr. Tuppy. It’s your 
half-crown, you know, not mine. But, come into 
the Back Ward and we’ll see if we can find Nurse 
Jessop. Yes, there she is. Nurse, this is Mr. 
Tuppy.” 

Mr. Tuppy bowed, and peered into Nurse Jessop’s 
face at close quarters. Nurse Jessop giggled. 
People generally did when they met the phenom- 
enon for the first time. 

“Don’t be alarmed, Nurse. Mr. Tuppy doesn’t 
see well. He is one of the new Dressers and ” 

“And I w-w-want to be able to know you again,” 
interrupted Mr. Tuppy apologetically. 


DR. TUPPY 


19 


“Yes, and he wants to be able to know you again. 
And he has a little favour to ask you. He would 
be very much obliged if you would kindly show him 
over his cases and help him in any way you can. 
Wouldn’t you, Mr. Tuppy? And Nurse, do show 
him the cases thoroughly. I must run away and 
get on with my work.” 

Sister Mary was called the “Little” Sister, partly 
in affection and partly because she was small. But, 
physically, she could look down on Mr. Tuppy. 
When it is added that Tuppy stood half-a-head 
taller than Nurse Jessop, it will be seen that the 
latter was a very small person indeed. Like many 
other very small persons, she attempted to com- 
pensate for the diminutiveness of her stature by an 
aggressiveness of manner which was really quite 
foreign to her nature and which, it must be con- 
fessed, made her extremely unpopular. 

She was for ever waving the sword and buckler 
instead of the white flag of peace. She was fond 
of declaring that she had no need for men, but 
subsequent events suggested that this statement was 
based upon the fact that the men, with the excep- 
tion of Mr. Dick Baxter, had no need for her. Nor 
was this altogether surprising. There was a peculiar 
obliquity of the lines of her face that expressed a 
captiousness totally at variance with the real 
amiability of her character. 

But to Tuppy, from the first moment that he 
saw her, she was, and she always remained the 
most beautiful creature on earth. There are com- 
pensations in everything, and the compensation of 


20 


DR. TUPPY 


Tuppy’s incurable astigmatism was that it exactly 
corrected the defects of Nurse Jessop’s face, whilst 
his partial colour-blindness transformed her auburn 
hair into a halo of burnished gold. Tuppy had 
the soul of a child ; his thoughts were always 
written on his face. Nurse Jessop read them there 
— and blushed. Of her own free will, she laid down 
her sword and buckler. She had no need for them. 

“And now, may I show you your cases, Mr. 
Tuppy ?” 

Mr. Tuppy would be only too delighted. 

“Let me see — you have beds Nos. i, 4, 6, and cot 
28/’ she said, reading from the Dressers’ Board 
which Tuppy had already studied in vain. 

She took him round the Ward and introduced* 
the patients to him. It was a task which, in ordi- 
nary circumstances, she would have resented, a point 
of view the Little Sister had foreseen when she 
asked her with such honeyed words to undertake it. 
Indeed, if Tuppy had not unconsciously disarmed 
her, he would have found Nurse Jessop a contentious 
cicerone, ever transfixing his inexperience with her 
sword and unsparingly slashing his ignorance to 
pieces. 

But, now, no trouble was too much for her. It 
was not only that she explained the cases to him, 
but it was the delightful way in which she did it. 

She need hardly tell Mr. Tuppy that this — No. 1 
— was a case of hip disease. Any one of Mr. 
Tuppy’s experience would recognize it at a glance. 
The notes had been rather badly kept, but with a 
new Dresser all this would be altered. It was so 


DR. TUPPY 


21 


nice to have new Dressers. This — No. 4 — was a 
case of strumous knee. Sally Chandler was her 
name. She was twelve years old. Sally would 
be glad to have a new Doctor, wouldn’t she ? Sally 
looked at Mr. Tuppy and grinned — ‘then shook 
her head. Tuppy bent over Sally’s face because 
he wanted “to be able to know her again.” Sally 
began to cry. Sally was told to dry her eyes be- 
cause to-morrow she was going to have a beautiful 
fresh back-splint and the new Doctor, who was so 
clever, would put it on. Lately, Sally had not 
progressed as much as she ought to have done, 
Nurse Jessop continued, but perhaps Mr. Tuppy 
would be able to make some suggestions in the 
treatment. 

All this, and there was a great deal more of it, 
lifted Tuppy into the seventh heaven of delight. 
He felt like a Staff Surgeon making his rounds, a 
flight of fancy in which he might have been ac- 
companied by the little Nurse, promoted in her 
imagination to a Sistership, if he had not rashly 
indulged in an occasional remark. And many of 
these indiscretions Nurse Jessop seemed not to hear, 
or repeated with approval in an exactly opposite 
sense to that which Mr. Tuppy intended. 

Altogether, it would have been the happiest hour 
of his life, had it not been for the anxiety attached 
to that wretched half-crown which he still feverishly 
grasped in his hand. 

What should he do with it? How was he to 
approach this most stupendous of questions? It 
was true that Sister Mary had suggested the offer- 


22 


DR. TUPPY 


in g, but suppose that she, like his chum Baxter, had 
made a mistake. He could not endure such another 
rebuff as he had encountered that morning. If he 
were to wound the feelings of the beautiful little 
creature at his side, Life would to him be no longer 
worth living. And so his mind become more 
troubled and abstracted as he followed his guide 
from bed to bed. 

“And this,” said Nurse Jessop, “is Number 6, the 
only other bed you have. How are you, Mrs. 
Wright? I’ve brought your new Doctor to see 
you.” Mrs. Wright looked at Tuppy and smiled. 
She seemed to take to him at once. 

“Glad to see you, sir,” she said. “I wish Pd 
’ad you before. My other young gentleman always 
looked so un'appy. I can't abide un'appy people. 
Now you look as if you could enjoy a 'earty laugh.” 

“Indeed I can, Mrs. Wright,” replied Tuppy de- 
lightedly. 

“Ah, well, you oughter to 'ave come before. I'm 
pretty well out of the doctors' hands now, ain't I, 
Nurse ?” 

“Yes, we can call you convalescent now, Mrs. 
Wright, but we'd like to keep you in until we've 
got you the sewing-machine.” 

“My! that sounds too good to be true. Why, 
I could keep a kerridge if I 'ad a sewing-machine,” 
and Mrs. Wright chuckled at her little joke. 

A sewing-machine! This was the case, then, to 
which Sister Mary had referred. Tuppy positively 
trembled. Dare he make the plunge? Would 
there be a better opportunity ? There was 


DR. TUPPY 


23 


“I want to buy her a sewing-machine,” Nurse 
Jessop said, turning to him. “I’m getting up a 
subscription. She’s a most deserving woman. 
She has five children to keep, but she never com- 
plains and never gives in.” 

He felt he could risk it now. 

“M-m-may I add my little m-m-mite ?” he 
stammered, timidly holding out his half-crown. 

“Oh, Mr. Tuppy, it is good of you.” 

“You’ll accept it?” he exclaimed delightedly. 

“Accept it! of course I will, and with ever so 
many thanks; look, Mrs. Wright, that makes 
seventeen shillings and sixpence.” Tuppy gave a 
sigh of relief and brushed his hand lightly across his 
eyes. 

“But surely you can’t buy a sewing-machine for 
seventeen and sixpence,” he ventured dubiously. 

“But we shall get some more, Mr. Tuppy. I’ve 
only just opened the list. I limited the subscrip- 
tion to half-a-crown, because you can’t get more 
from a Nurse if you tried, and if you named no sum 
at all, you’d get less.” 

“But I’m not a Nurse,” Tuppy replied, “let me 
give more.” 

But, no, Nurse Jessop thought that would hardly 
do, the other subscribers might not like it. Mrs. 
Wright clinched the matter by saying — 

“No, don’t you give no more, sir, and thank you 
kindly for what you have done. All I ask of you is 
to come and see me every morning and ’ave a ’earty 
laugh. That’ll do me good.” 

So Tuppy did not argue the matter, indeed a 


24 


DR. TUPPY 


Napoleonic scheme was framing itself at the back 
of his mind that would make all argument un- 
necessary. 

“Good gracious, Nurse Jessop, why are you 
wasting your time laughing and talking here? 
Don’t you know the dinners will be up directly ?” 

“Pm not wasting my time, Sister. Pm taking Mr. 
Tuppy round. You told me to do it thoroughly.” 

“I should think you have done it thoroughly,” 
returned Sister Mary with a quizzical look in her 
eyes. “Why it’s nearly twelve o’clock.” 

“P-p-perhaps Pd better go,” stammered Tuppy. 
“Good-bye, Nurse, and thank you very much for 
all your kindness.” He offered his hand timidly, 
and Nurse Jessop, in spite of the fact that it was 
against all Ward regulations, and that they would 
be meeting again in a few hours’ time, held out her 
own in response. 

“Very — thoroughly — indeed,” repeated Sister 
Mary laughingly. “I should think you have done 
it, very — -thoroughly — indeed. Now run and see 
if you can serve the dinners as well as you have 
served Mr. Tuppy.” 

“I thought you did not like the dinners served 
when there are men in the Ward,” snapped Nurse 
Jessop, resuming her sword and buckler. 

“What do you mean, Nurse ?” 

“Why, there’s old Daddy Johnson still sitting 
on the locker next No. io, the picture of misery. 
I wonder you let him in at all hours of the day. 
His wife’s no more dying than I am. She nags, 
nags, nags from the time he arrives to the time that 


DR. TUPPY 25 

he goes. Were I the old gaffer Pd never come near 
her at all.” 

“Well, send him to me, Nurse, and then serve the 
dinners.” 

“Now, Daddy,” said the Little Sister, when the 
old man approached her. “IPs time you went. You 
can come again to-morrow.” 

“I've been wantin' to go this 'arf hour,” replied 
the grey-beard ruefully, “but my ole woman 
wouldn't let me.” 

Sister Mary held the Ward door open for him. 
He paused for a moment on the threshold. “She 
seems to 'ave a little more strength to-day, Sister,” 
he said mournfully. 

“No, I don't think so, Daddy. She's really very 
poorly indeed.” 

His face brightened at once. 

“Ah, well,” he replied with cheerful resignation, 
“if it please the Lord to take her I won't say 
‘no.' ” 

The Little Sister smiled enigmatically as she 
crossed the Ward to her Sanctum. Then she 
indulged in a quiet laugh. To-day everybody 
seemed vying with each other in being unconsciously 
funny. Mr. Tuppy had been funny, Daddy Johnson 
had been funny, and as for Nurse Jessop, to see 
Nurse Jessop doing the polite to a Dresser — and a 
new Dresser to boot — well, that was the funniest 
thing of all. 

“I wonder — I wonder ,” she said to herself softly. 
“Well, we shall see,” and, opening her Day-book, 
she scribbled a hurried note. 


CHAPTER II 


“The manner of giving shows the character of the giver, 
more than the gift itself.” Lavater . 

W ELL, at least, she was fortunate in one re- 
spect. The Junior House Surgeon, instead 
of coming on as Senior, as he ought to have done, 
had resigned his post, and her old friend, Mr. 
Murray, had taken his place. For the next six 
months she would be steering the ship under an 
excellent Captain, but she feared, excepting for Mr. 
Tuppy, with a very disorderly crew. 

Taking the Dressers collectively she would de- 
scribe them as “Wasters.” For three of them she 
could speak with certainty — Mr. James Mason, 
familiarly known to his colleagues as “Jumping 
Jimmy,” on account of the abnormal elasticity of 
his gait, and Mr. Oscar Smith, otherwise called 
the “Gollywog,” had both been about the Hospital 
for years. They were distinguished members of 
the Hospital Dramatic Club and were popularly 
regarded as having mistaken their profession, a 
belief which certainly seemed justified with regard 
to the one they were following, since the number of 
their histrionic triumphs at the Christmas Entertain- 
ments was exceeded only by the multiplicity of their 
26 


DR. TUPPY 


27 


professional failures before the Conjoint Board of 
Examiners. As for Mr. Dick Baxter he was quite 
a Hospital evergreen. After ten years of what he 
described as 4 'grinding study,” the greater portion 
of which had been devoted to Billiards, Boxing, 
and other Collateral Sciences not generally included 
in the Medical Curriculum, he had surprised himself 
and still more his associates, by winning the proud 
distinction of "Licentiate in Medicine and Surgery 
of the Society of Apothecaries.” As soon as he 
succeeded in passing the "Conjoint” examination 
and was in a position to write M.R.C.S., L.R.C.P., 
after his name, he had been promised a post as 
House Surgeon. How it came about that the sick 
poor of the Hospital were for ever deprived of the 
inestimable benefits of his services, is one of the 
purports of these pages to relate. 

The Little Sister had no need for any of these 
creatures. Such a trio would demoralize the best 
set of Dressers on earth. She did not expect young 
men to be angels — she was tolerant of their vices, 
which, as a rule, hurt no one but themselves; but 
she had a hearty contempt for Practical Jokers and 
“Raggers,” the only point of whose humour con- 
sisted in the infliction of suffering upon others. 
They were cowards, all. 

And, unfortunately, these men had material 
ready at hand, on which to practise their favourite 
pastime. Poor Mr. Tuppy, both mentally and 
physically, seemed designed by nature to be a butt. 
He was so guileless himself that he could see no 
guile in others. He could not possibly have any- 


28 


DR. TUPPY 


thing in common with Mr. Baxter, whose friendly- 
interest in him, she suspected, was of the quality 
that a cat finds in a mouse. The practical joke of 
yesterday was obviously the prelude of many others 
to come, and Mr. Baxter would go on playing with 
his mouse, until he had killed it. 

“May I come in, Sister?” 

“Is that you, Mr. Murray? Come in by all 
means. Pm just finishing my breakfast.” 

“I took mine early on purpose to run over and 
see you before the Surgery opened. I hadn't a 
chance of speaking to you yesterday. By Jove, I 
am glad to be back at the old place.” 

“And I'm glad to have you back; I call on your 
favourite heathen god Jupiter to witness it.” 

“Wasn't it luck that young Simmons decided to 
go to Australia? Now I shall get another six 
months of Hospital life before I settle down in 
practice. Of course I don't expect to have such a 
good time as I did two years ago.” 

“Why not?” asked the Little Sister, picking up 
her knitting. 

“Well, I don't think one enjoys any good thing 
in life as much the second time as the first. When 
a man first becomes a House Surgeon he thinks 
himself a very important member of the Com- 
munity.” 

“And so he is,” she laughed, “of the Hospital 
Community.” 

“Just so — the Hospital Community — and that's 
not a very large circle. I've been round the world 
since I saw you last, and the Hospital Community 


DR. TUPPY 


29 


doesn’t occupy the same area in my field of vision 
as it did. Being a House Surgeon feeds my vanity 
no longer, and vanity being the ruling factor in 
life, I shall not enjoy myself so much. But there 
are other reasons.” 

“Such as ?” 

“Well,” replied the young man musingly, “I’m 
not altogether satisfied with the Dressers.” 

“Nor am I,” snapped Sister Mary decisively, 
“excepting of course that poor Mr. Tuppy, and I’m 
afraid he isn’t quite — quite ” 

“Quite what ?” 

“Well, I hardly like to say it. Quite ” and 

she touched her head significantly. 

Mr. Murray broke into a laugh. 

“Poor Tuppy,” he said, “so many people get 
possessed with that idea. Tuppy’s a bit of a fool, 
of course, but he’s as sane as you or I. And he’s 
one of the best fellows in the world.” 

“You know him then?” 

“Know him! Know Charlie Tuppy? Good 
gracious! why I’ve known the whole family since 
I was a boy.” 

“But surely he’s a little eccentric, Mr. Murray?” 

“Eccentric, of course he is. So is his father; 
and very much more so. But he’s not so eccentric 
as he looks. How can a man help appearing 
eccentric, who, when he reads, has to put his nose 
so close to the paper that he seems to be smelling it?” 

Sister Mary thought of Mr. Tuppy deciphering 
the Dressers’ Board and smiled. 

“I’m glad you spoke of this subject, Sister, I 


30 


DR. TUPPY 


should like to set you right on it. I am tond of 
Charlie, but he’s a very unusual character.” 

The young Surgeon began walking up and down 
the room, with his hands folded behind him, talking 
almost as much to himself as to her. 

“There are times when the substratum of uncon- 
scious pathos in Tuppy ’s individuality brings the 
tears into my eyes ; there are times when the 
suppression of my merriment at his still more 
unconscious humour involves me in an appreciable 
risk of apoplexy; there are times when some of his 
points of view strike me as a revelation of shrewd- 
ness and ability; and, I confess, there are times 
when I can heartily endorse the sentiments I heard 
expressed by Jimmy Mason yesterday, 'Oh, con- 
found Tuppy — Tuppy’s an Ass’.” He stopped short 
and laughed. “You’ll think I’m getting rhetorical, 
Sister.” 

“No, but I think you’re talking in hyperbole — 
it’s a way you used to have, you know.” 

“Well, it’s no hyperbole to say that Tuppy is 
true and loyal to the backbone. And if you get him 
on a subject in which he is interested, he can talk 
better and more logically than most people. But 
it’s always the same in a place like this, where one 
knows so many faces by sight and yet may never 
speak to the owners. A man is judged by his 
appearance, and appearances are too often deceptive. 
The fact is that a person’s peculiarities are most 
apparent at a distance, at close quarters they cannot 
be focussed. Do you recollect that fellow Denison, 
with the long tow-coloured hair and the Georgian 


DR. TUPPY 


3i 


type of countenance ? I loathed the sight of him so 
much that for years I wanted to tear him limb from 
limb. One day, we got into conversation and I 
found him quite a decent sort of chap. Then, 
there’s poor Thompson, who has a red nose through 
chronic dyspepsia. Half the Hospital believes that 
he drinks, although, as a matter of fact, the man’s 
a teetotaler. When I hear any one’s character 
traduced I always ask, ‘Do you yourself know that 
to be true?’ I can’t stand gossips.” 

“There, I’m at one with you,” said Sister Mary, 
putting down her knitting for a moment; “do you 
remember the lines — 

‘A Whisper broke the air, 

A soft light tone, and low, 

Yet barbed with shame and woe; 

Now, might it only perish there. 

Nor farther go. 

Ah, me ! A quick and eager ear 
Caught up the little meaning sound, 

Another voice has breathed it clear, 

And so it wander’d round 
From ear to lip, from lip to ear, 

Until it reached a gentle heart, 

And that — it broke !’ ” 

“Yes,” he replied, “and more than one heart has 
been broken by the gossips in the Hospital. I 
would excise the tongues of all scandal-mongers.” 

“I fear you’d have a busy time in the Nurses’ 
Home,” laughed the Little Sister. 

“Oh, I don’t think the women are a bit worse than 
the men, and in Tuppy’s case they’ll probably be 


32 


DR. TUPPY 


kinder. They won’t resent so much the one point 
on which I confess he is really irrational.” 

“And what is that, Mr. Murray?” With the 
memory of yesterday in her mind she thought he 
might be going to say, “Bribery and Corruption.” 

“Well, it’s very silly, but it’s really all through 
the influence of his Aunt, Lady Milner. She has 
succeeded in making him what she calls an A.V.” 

“A what?” 

“An A.V. : an Anti-Vivisectionist. Tuppy does 
not approve of our modern methods of Research.” 

Sister Mary made no reply. She picked up her 
knitting again. She felt that personally she would 
prefer the society of an amiable and irrational anti- 
vivisectionist to the companionship of the most 
intellectual vivisector in the world. 

“By the way, Sister,” continued the young man, 
noticing her silence — “ you are supposed not to hold 
very orthodox views on the subject.” 

“I don’t hold orthodox views on any subject 
merely for the sake of orthodoxy,” she replied, “but 
we won’t discuss it.” 

“No, there you’re wise; and that’s where Tuppy’s 
such a fool. He insists on discussing it. That’s 
why the chaps rag him so and think he’s crazy. Of 
course he never ought to have gone in for Medicine. 
He’s not fitted for it mentally or physically. He’s 
a born Musician and wanted to take up the Piano 
professionally, but Canon Tuppy wouldn’t hear of 
it.” 

“Is Canon Tuppy his father?” 

“Yes, have you never heard of him? By Jove 


DR. TUPPY 33 

he's a character if you like. And his sister Maria is 
worse/’ 

“No wonder poor Mr. Tuppy is eccentric.” 

“Yes, but he inherits a very different strain on his 
mother’s side. If Lady Milner, his maternal Aunt, 
had not adopted him when he was a boy of twelve, 
and taken him away from the Rectory, I really think 
Charlie would have grown up a lunatic. Lady 
Milner had no children, Mrs. Tuppy had too many; 
Lady Milner is wealthy, whilst the Canon is poor, so 
it was an excellent arrangement for all parties, 
especially for Tuppy. He was a frightfully sensitive 
child and his parents never understood him. But 
Lady Milner placed him in a totally different en- 
vironment. She’s a regular old aristocrat, with a 
punctilious graciousness and old-time courtesy 
which are rare in the twentieth century.” 

“Well, Fortune has been good to Mr. Tuppy, if 
Nature hasn’t. I suppose he is Lady Milner’s 
heir?” 

“Oh, yes, and lives in her house.” 

“But he keeps up with his family?” 

“Yes, but Lady Milner and the Canon are not on 
very good terms. She always resented his making 
certain conditions to Charlie’s adoption, namely that 
he should have the final word in the choice of 
Charlie’s profession and in the sanctioning of 
Charlie’s marriage. The first point the old lady had 
to yield, but she refused to discuss the second until 
the occasion arose. But on no subject would she 
and the Canon ever agree. He is a narrow old Tory 
and rigid Churchman — she is Liberal in sentiment, 


34 


DR. TUPPY 


politics and religion. She thinks the family circle 
has a bad influence on Charlie and keeps him away 
as much as she can. And to tell the truth, the great- 
est trials of Tuppy’s life are the occasional meals 
he has to take at the Rectory. His father gets on 
his nerves.” 

“His work in the Wards seems to get on his 
nerves,” replied the Little Sister with a laugh. 
“IPs lucky for him that you came on as House 
Surgeon. You'll be able to help him.” 

“Ah, you don’t understand Tuppy a bit. I am 
the last person whom he’ll ask for assistance. It 
will be a point of honour with him to put out of 
court the fact that he’s known me in private. He’s 
punctiliousness itself, and I dare say, in the Ward 
you’ll hear him calling me ‘Sir’ though he’s known 
me as Bob all his life.” 

“May I speak to you, Sister?” said a voice out- 
side. 

“Yes, come in, Nurse.” 

“By Jove, and I must be off,” exclaimed the 
House Surgeon, “it’s striking nine. ‘Full day’ this 
afternoon, Sister. I shall be glad when it’s over.” 

“And so shall I, Mr. Murray. Now, Nurse, what 
is it?” 

“There’s a large wooden case just arrived, Sister. 
It’s addressed to Mrs. Wright. I want to know 
what I’m to do with it.” 

Sister Mary followed the Probationer into the 
Ward. 

“It’s lucky yer’ve got a lift ’ere,” said the carman, 


DR. TUPPY 35 

mopping his brow, “or Pd never 'ave got it up at all. 
It’s a tidy weight, I can tell you.” 

“What is it?” asked Sister Mary. 

“Wot is it, 'ow can I tell wot it is. We carmen 
don't pry into customers' goods. Judgin' from 
the weight I should say it were a ton of coal.” 

Sister Mary examined the address. It was type- 
written — “Mrs. Wright, c/o Sister Mary,” and then 
the name of the Hospital and the Postal District. 

“It is for you, mum, isn't it ?” asked the man, still 
ostentatiously mopping imaginary sweat from his 
brow. 

“Oh, yes, it's all right, it is for me. Good morn- 
ing.” 

But the man made no effort to move; on the 
contrary, he kept a running fire of observations 
from which Sister Mary gathered that when he was 
a boy, coals used to be sent in carts and not in 
cases, that the weather was very 'ot, and that he'd 
always been given to understand that 'orspitals were 
Charitable Institootions. 

“How stupid of me,” she said, taking out her 
purse, “of course you want something for yourself.” 
She turned out the coins for a sixpence, but couldn't 
find one. The carman was in luck. “Here's a two 
shilling piece for you,” she continued, “now take 
my advice and don't spend it on drink.” 

“Lord lov’ yer, mum, I ain't thinkin' of myself. 
It's my mate; 'e's just dyin' for 'arf a pint. Good 
morning, mum, and thank ye kindly.” 

It wasn't a promising opening to a busy day, 
thought the Little Sister, to have a lumbering 


36 


DR. TUPPY 


wooden case like that planked down in the middle of 
the Ward. What on earth did Mrs. Wright mean 
by having such a thing sent to the Hospital ? Where 
was Mrs. Wright? She had been up and dressed 
an hour, had she? Would Nurse Jessop have the 
kindness to find her. She was coming down the 
Ward now? Yes, so she was. Sister Mary made 
an effort to control her rising irritability. It was 
so annoying to have a bother like this on “Full 
day.” 

“Now, Mrs. Wright,” she said with a forced 
smile, “there's a little wooden case come for you. 
What are you going to do with it?” 

“A wooden case for me,” replied the genial Mrs. 
Wright. “Ah, yer 'avin' a joke with me, Sister. 
Yer know I likes a bit o' fun!” 

“It's no joke,” exclaimed the Little Sister begin- 
ning to feel ruffled again, “it's no joke I can assure 
you to have a meteoric mass like that suddenly shot 
down on us from the skies. The question is ‘What 
are we to do with it ?' ” 

The patient saw that Sister Mary was in earnest 
and changed her tone. 

“Well, Sister, I’m very sorry. There's some 
mistake. I'm sure it ain't meant for me.” 

“But, my good woman, it's addressed to you. 
Read the label for yourself — ‘Mrs. Wright, care of 
Sister Mary.' There's no other Mrs. Wright in the 
Ward.” 

“Well, I'm sure it ain't meant for me, Sister.” 

“Weren't you expecting anything?” 

“Me expecting anythink? I've been expectin' 


DR. TUPPY 


37 


all my life. Never give up ’ope, ses I. But nuffink 
has ever come. No, Sister, I ain’t expecting 
nuffink in particklar.” 

“Suppose, Sister,” suggested Nurse Jessop, “if 
Mrs. Wright doesn’t mind, suppose we find out 
what is inside. That may throw some light on the 
matter.” 

“Yes, and it may throw a good deal more than 
light on the floor. The thing may be packed with 
sawdust and straw. But it can’t be helped. Have 
you got a screw-driver, Nurse?” 

Nurse Jessop dived into the Kitchen and pro- 
duced not only one screw-driver, but two, with 
which she and the Probationer set to work with a 
will. A cheerful spirit of curiosity began to pervade 
the whole party and dispersed the little clouds of 
irritation. 

“There’s no straw, Sister- and no sawdust,” said 
Nurse Jessop, levering up the edge of the half loos- 
ened top, and peeping through the crack. “It looks 
like metal of some sort.” 

“I can't move this screw,” panted the Probationer, 
making violent and abortive attempts to turn it the 
wrong way. 

“I think we can force up the lid from this end,” 
said Sister Mary. “Now, Nurse Jessop, both to- 
gether.” 

They did force it up both together, so much 
together that the Probationer had to duck her head 
sharply to avoid it. Then they all three looked in. 

“It’s a type-writer,” piped the Probationer. 


3 « 


DR. TUPPY 


“It looks more like a metal lathe,” said Sister 
Mary, tearing off some of the paper. 

“Why, it's a sewing-machine, of course,” ex- 
claimed Nurse Jessop in the tone of one who had 
guessed a conundrum correctly, “and here’s a type- 
written card tied to it.” 

“For Mrs. Wright. No. 6 Bed, Mary Ward. 
With best wishes from a friend.” 

“Mrs. Wright! Mrs. Wright! why do you go 
away? Come and look, come and look. Here’s 
a sewing-machine for you. It’s a beauty. A 
treadle. Isn’t it splendid, Mrs. Wright? Your 
luck’s changed at last, and you’ll be able to keep a 
‘kerridge’ after all.” 

Mrs. Wright approached the case with trembling 
steps and breathlessly peeped in. What a beauty 
it was! what a fine machine! She timidly put 
out a shaking hand to feel if it was real. She 
ought to have laughed with joy, but somehow — 
she couldn’t. She could only gaze at it, open- 
mouthed, in silence and with awe. 

“Yes, I can — keep a kerridge — now,” she said 
with a queer smile and a catch in her voice — “and 
my little ’uns, my little ’uns” — she flung her arms 
round Nurse Jessop’s neck. “God bless you, Nurse, 
God bless you, you don’t know what you’ve done 
for me.” 

There was a strange stillness for a moment, 
only broken by a woman’s sobs. 


CHAPTER III 


“A mighty hunter, and his prey was man.” 


Pope . 


HE curious thing was that Nurse Jessop 



l declared she knew nothing whatever about 
it. There was really no reason to doubt her word, 
in view of the fact that she never lied (except in 
the direst necessity), and that, only this morning, 
she had laboriously collected half a dozen additional 
names for her list of subscribers. 

The advent of the sewing-machine was a mystery 
which no one could solve. It had come like a 
benign bolt from the blue, a “Deus ex Machina” 
— a Machina ex Deo. A friendly Providence 
seemed responsible for both its coming and going. 
For, without the intervention of Providence, it is 
clear that Sister Mary would have been solvent 
in the matter of sixpences, of which coin of the 
realm it was her custom to keep an ample supply. 
Without the expansion of their revenue to the 
handsome sum of a florin the carmen would have 
lapped up their “ ’arf pints” and gone. But, as it 
was, the occasion seemed propitious for a prelimi- 
nary lunch, so, giving the horses their nose-bags, 
they carried their own little nose-bags to the 
neighbouring Pub and washed down the contents of 


39 


40 


DR. TUPPY 


bread and cheese with innumerable tankards of beer. 
Consequently, the Probationer, who had been dis- 
patched in post-haste on the chance of catching 
the van, found it still in the Hospital Square, and 
the horses contentedly feeding, with an expression 
that seemed to say, “Don’t worry, my dear, we 
are taking our lunch, we thought you would want 
us again.” It was well worth the price of the car- 
riage, and the inevitable further refresher, to get 
the obstruction taken out of the Ward and dis- 
patched at once to Mrs. Wright’s domicile. 

And now, that lady herself was the picture of 
happiness. She sat on her locker embracing her 
wardrobe, in the shape of countless bundles and 
brown paper parcels piled up on her knee, her rubi- 
cund face smiling over the summit, like the sun 
rising over a mountain. Directly Mr. Tucker had 
signed her discharge, she would fly on the wings 
of a four-wheeled cab to her family, home, and — 
her sewing-machine. 

Sister Mary looked impatiently at the clock. The 
surgeons ought to have been up at two, and it was 
now a quarter-past. It was just like Mr. Tucker 
to be late. Had Sir William Fell been on duty he 
would have been punctual to the moment. She 
hated this waiting about on Parade and being tied 
to the front Ward door. Not that she wasted the 
time; she employed it in knitting and thinking. 

She glanced around to see that everything was 
trim and in order. How cheerful the patient looked 
in No. 6 bed. It was Mr. Tuppy’s first new case. 
She wondered what he had made of it. She had 


DR. TUPPY 


4i 


caught sight of his smile at intervals during the 
morning and wished once or twice she could have 
gone to his rescue. Indeed, she had sent the Pro- 
bationer with a clothes-brush to remove sundry 
chalk marks from the back of his coat, warning her 
not to acquaint Mr. Tuppy with the fact that they 
bore a marked resemblance to the letters A.V. 

She had noticed that wherever he went he was 
invariably joined by two or three tittering men. 

“Why are you smelling that splint, Tuppy ?” 
the Golly wog had brutally asked, as poor Tuppy 
assiduously laboured and perspired over his case 
in No. 4 bed. 

“Don’t you know?” replied his companion, “why, 
Tuppy w-w-wants to be a-a-able to know it again.” 
And the two men had burst into laughter and 
sauntered away. 

But Tuppy was so entirely preoccupied with 
his work, and so deadly in earnest, that a troupe 
of clowns might have fooled round him without 
distracting his attention. He was so well disposed 
towards everybody that he took it for granted 
everybody must be equally well disposed towards 
him. If he became conscious at all of the notice of 
his fellow-Dressers it was to experience a sense of 
gratitude for their amiable interest in his work. 
But for actual assistance he had appealed to Baxter 
alone, and the Little Sister’s impatience for Mr. 
Tucker’s arriyal was increased by her anxiety to 
learn the extent of Tuppy’s betrayal. 

Ah ! there was' the lift at last, the babel of stu- 
dents’ voices and the clatter of many feet on the 


42 


DR. TUPPY 


echoing corridor. Mr. Tucker, with the Dressers, 
was about to burst through the doorway, like a 
Huntsman with a pack of hounds at his heels. 

“Ah, good-day, Sister/’ cried the Staff Surgeon 
cheerily, hanging his hat on a peg, and discarding 
his frock-coat with the determination and rapidity 
of one who strips for a pugilistic encounter, “and 
how is the world treating you?” It was one of 
Mr. Tucker’s eccentricities that he was never happy 
within the Hospital precincts unless he was robed 
in what he called his Hospital working coat. It 
was a light grey frock-coat, quite a remarkable 
coat, for it had seen ten years’ service and was built 
on the lines of a fashion that was as freakish as it 
proved to be ephemeral. In fact, Mr. Tucker’s 
grey frock-coat was an accepted Hospital institution, 
although in the eyes of the rest of the Staff, who 
wore immaculate garments of linen, it constituted 
a surgical solecism. He kept it in a special cupboard 
in Mary Ward. If the Steward wanted to know 
whether Mr. Tucker was on the premises he sent up 
to Sister Mary, and if she was uncertain, she had 
only to open the cupboard and see whether the 
Staff Surgeon’s coat was in its usual place. 

“Now, gentlemen, a little less noise if you please. 
Any new cases, Murray?” 

“Only one, sir, in No. 6 bed.” 

Sister Mary caught Mr. Murray’s eye and then 
shot a glance in the direction of the expectant Mrs. 
Wright. 

“Oh, and there’s a case waiting to go out, sir, 
if you would kindly sign her discharge.” 


DR. TUPPY 


43 


“Certainly, Murray, where is she?” Mr. Tucker 
looked at the Patient’s Board. “Ah, Mrs. Wright, 
to be sure. Sister, this is more like a pin than a pen. 
Haven’t you a J? Well, Mrs. Wright, you’re going 
to leave us, are you? Nothing wrong with you 
now, Mrs. Wright, eh?” 

“Good Heavens,” thought the Little Sister to 
herself, “he is in one of his funny moods. Poor 
Mr. Tuppy!” 

“Now, Murray, I’m behind time and we’ll take 
the new case first.” He led the hunt at a rapid pace 
along the Ward, knocking over a stool as he went, 
the pack of Dressers yapping at his heels. 

“Don’t be afraid, mam,” he said to the scared 
patient who was nervously seeking cover under the 
bed-clothes, “don’t be afraid. We shan’t hurt you. 
Now, Murray, whose case is this, eh?” 

“Mr. Tuppy’s, sir.” 

“Tuppy, Tuppy, Tuppy,” repeated the Staff 
Surgeon rapidly, as if he enjoyed the rhythm of 
the name. “Well, where’s Mr. Tuppy, eh?” 

At that particular moment it happened that Mr. 
Tuppy was engaged in earnest debate with Nurse 
Jessop at the back of the crowd. Mr. Tuppy was 
small; Nurse Jessop was smaller; so, for the nonce 
they escaped observation. Mr. Tuppy was expres- 
sing a hope, which Nurse Jessop assured him was 
vain, that his notes would not be called into requisi- 
tion. So absorbed they became in arguing their 
different points of view, that they failed to notice 
the fact that the Dressers discovering their where- 


44 


DR. TUPPY 


abouts, had gleefully opened up a passage which 
exposed them both to Mr. Tucker’s critical eye. 

“That, sir, is Mr. Tuppy,” whispered Baxter 
in the Staff Surgeon’s ear. 

“Very charming,” Mr. Tucker exclaimed, quizzi- 
cally gazing at the unconscious and still gesticula- 
ting pair, “very charming indeed.” 

This merry flourish of the Huntsman’s horn was 
regarded by the pack of Dressers as a signal for 
them to give tongue and they broke into a roar. 

Mr. Tuppy turned and found himself the cyno- 
sure of every eye. 

“Far be it from me to disturb you, Mr. Tuppy,” 
continued the Staff Surgeon blandly, “but when 
you have quite concluded your share of those 
amiable reciprocities, I shall be glad to be honoured 
with your notes on this case.” 

Curiously enough of the two culprits, if culprits 
they were, it was Nurse Jessop who was by far the 
more disturbed of the two. Tuppy’s ingenuous 
simplicity, which made him so easy a butt, com- 
pensated him with a slowness of grasping the situa- 
tions in which his tormentors involved him. Some- 
times, unhappily, these revealed themselves to him 
later and filled him with shame. Nor had he any 
sense, as Nurse Jessop had, of being “on duty,” 
and the event meant no more to him because it 
occurred in the Ward than if it had occurred in a 
drawing-room. If the Dressers expected to see 
him overcome with nervous confusion they were 
doomed to disappointment. A heightened colour 


DEL TUPPY 


45 

and a slight expansion of his normal smile were his 
only signs of distress. 

Sister Mary unhooked the Patient’s Board from 
the wall and handed it to him. They stood together 
on one side of the bed, whilst Mr. Tucker stood on 
the other. She did not like to watch the young 
man; in fact, to do so she would have had to turn 
round, and it was her duty to keep her eye on her 
Chief. But Mr. Tucker’s face was a mirror in which 
she could see Mr. Tuppy’s. It became illuminated 
at once with a typical Tuppy smile. As an impres- 
sionable spectator who gets absorbed in a play will 
often imitate unawares the movements of the per- 
formers, so the Staff Surgeon reflected the expres- 
sions and gestures of the Dresser, who appeared 
to fascinate him. The action seemed to be partly 
unconscious, and partly that of one who assumes 
a novel and extraordinary position merely to know 
how it feels. When Mr. Tuppy cleared his throat 
Mr. Tucker cleared his; when Mr. Tuppy’s smile 
expanded Mr. Tucker’s expanded too; and when 
Mr. Tuppy put his head forward like a giraffe so 
that he might be able to know Mr. Tucker again, 
their respective noses almost touched over the bed. 
To watch them both, as the men said afterwards, 
was really as good as a play. 

“Now, Mr. Tuppy,” said the Staff Surgeon, 
“what about this case, eh?” 

Mr. Tuppy buried his face in the board on which 
the notes were pinned. 

“The patient’s n-n-name,” he began, “is Alice 
M-m-may M-m-mason.” 


46 


DR. TUPPY 


“What name?” asked Mr. Tucker. 

“Alice M-m-may Mason.” 

“Alice Mummermay Mason,” repeated Mr. 
Tucker, “very unusual Christian name. Yes, and 
what is her age?” 

“N-n-no,” said Tuppy, making a supreme effort 
to be distinct, “her name is Alice M-may Mason.” 

“Oh, I see. I beg your pardon. Slight impedi- 
ment, eh? her name is Alice Mason.” 

“N-n-no,” Tuppy insisted, feeling that to give an 
incorrect name was a discourtesy to the patient. 
“It is Alice May M-m-mason.” 

The Staff Surgeon passed his hand over his brow 
as if to collect his senses. 

“How many ‘Mays’ are there?” he asked re- 
signedly. 

“T-t-two,” replied Tuppy, “n-n-no, I mean one.” 

“Just what I said — Alice Mason.” 

“No,” repeated Tuppy, getting hotter every mo- 
ment, “it’s Alice M-may Mason.” 

Sister Mary, from the beginning of this dialogue, 
had doubted Mr. Tucker’s ingenuousness, now she 
was certain he was amusing himself and the 
Dressers at Mr. Tuppy’s expense. 

“The patient’s name, Mr. Tucker,” she said, purs- 
ing her lips, “is Alice — May — Mason. I hope I 
speak distinctly.” 

If in Mr. Tucker’s mind there was any further 
doubt on the subject it was removed by the patient 
herself remarking — 

“Yus. My nime is Alice Mi Mison.” 

The Dressers felt that the fox had escaped them, 


DR. TUPPY 


47 


but they had immensely enjoyed the short run. 
Doubtless they would soon pick up another scent. 
But as Tuppy got his second wind, the stammer, as 
usual, disappeared from his speech, and his notes, 
the Little Sister thought, sounded quite clear and 
intelligent. 

“ What’s the matter with that?” whispered the 
Gollywog in Dick Baxter’s ear. 

“Wait until you get to the family history,” was 
the significant reply. 

“Family History,” read Tuppy from his notes at 
the same moment. 

“Yes, what is the family history?” asked Mr. 
Tucker benignly. 

“Family History. Parents living; both healthy. 
No brothers or sisters. Mother-in-law died of 
apoplexy.” 

“Ah,” said the Staff Surgeon musingly, “mother- 
in-law died of apoplexy, eh? That’s very interest- 
ing.” He felt he had started another fox. The 
Dressers tittered in anticipation of a second run. 
“And the patient,” he continued, “the patient, you 
said, comes from Bath. And yet you have not told 
us of the condition of health of the Town Clerk of 
that city.” Tuppy was puzzled. He could not quite 
see what the Town Clerk had to do with the case. 
But he knew that he was very stupid and that it 
was not for him to ask questions. 

“No, sir,” he replied quite simply and politely, 
“I’m afraid I haven’t the pleasure of his acquaint- 
ance.” 

Even Sister Mary was compelled to smile at this 


DR. TUPPY 


48 

ingenuous reply. It was now Mr. Tucker’s turn to 
be puzzled. He began to suspect that in hunting a 
fox, he had caught a Tartar, that he had been 
badgering a joker instead of a fool. But Tuppy’s 
face expressed nothing more than a conciliatory and 
sympathetic regret that he was unable to afford 
the required information. 

“P-p-perhaps the patient could assist us in 
the matter, sir,” he ventured timidly. 

“Don’t you see,” shouted Mr. Tucker in exaspera- 
tion, “that the patient’s mother-in-law has just as 
much to do with the case as the Town Clerk.” 

“That’s exactly what I thought,” burst out Tuppy 
delightedly, “and I’m very glad to hear that you 
think so too.” 

“The man’s a fool,” muttered the Staff Surgeon 
under his breath. “Now, Murray, what about 
treatment?” 

But Mr. Tuppy had reason to be pleased with 
himself. The great Surgeon had agreed with him. 
The mention of the mother-in-law was Baxter’s 
suggestion entirely and although Tuppy put it down 
he had considered it altogether irrelevant. But, if 
he had said so, Baxter, who was an L.M.S.S.A., 
might have been hurt, and he wouldn’t have wounded 
Baxter’s feelings for worlds. 

And so, when Mr. Tucker reached Sally Chand- 
ler’s bed, which, as it happened, was the last case on 
his round, Tuppy was not only ready, but even 
eager to respond to his call. 

“Ah, our old friend, Mr. Tuppy,” said the Staff 
Surgeon, “and this is the fresh back-splint, eh?” 


DR. TUPPY 


49 


Tuppy thought it was really very nice of Mr. 
Tucker to call him an old friend after so short an 
acquaintance, but then, had not a freemasonry been 
established between them, did they not see things 
intellectually from the same point of view? 

“Yes, sir,” he replied with a meaning smile, as 
one who is conscious of a familiarity and appreciates 
its signficance, “this is the fresh back-splint.” 

“Neat — quite neat,” said Mr. Tucker rather 
grudgingly; and Nurse Jessop, who, although at 
the back of the crowd could hear the remark, was at 
a loss to account for her strange sense of relief. To 
bandage well was one of the few accomplishments 
that Tuppy had acquired before entering the Wards. 
It was lucky it was so, the Little Sister thought, as, 
since their first passage of arms, the Staff Surgeon’s 
attitude towards Mr. Tuppy had changed from a 
tolerant curiosity to a captious suspicion. 

Suddenly, Mr. Tucker stooped and inserted his 
finger between the end of the splint and the limb, 
then he dragged the bandage up, then he stood 
erect and indulged in a loud guffaw, and gave the 
Dressers a glance which seemed to say, “Now, if 
you want to see something really funny, you can 
look for yourselves.” 

They did look for themselves, and what they saw 
made them roar with derisive delight, until the 
Ward echoed with laughter and even the patients 
grinned sympathetically in their beds. And Tuppy, 
of course, laughed too, although he had no more 
idea than the patients of what it was all about. The 
Ward cat perhaps had been discovered in Sally’s 


5 ^ 


DR. TUPPY 


bed, or a hundred and one funny things might have 
happened without his poor eyes perceiving them. 
Since Mr. Tucker’s tribute of praise he had stepped 
modestly to the rear, not wishing to wear his laurels 
with too exultant an air. 

Then, at last, Sister Mary found her chance of 
reaching over to look, and her heart stood still, 
and her face grew hot on account of poor Mr. 
Tuppy, for his wonderful piece of bandaging 
covered a splint that was inside out, the surface she 
had so carefully padded being next the bed, and 
its rough wooden side next Sally Chandler’s skin. 

“Mr. Tuppy,” said the Staff Surgeon, “will you 
kindly step this way?” 

Mr. Tuppy stepped this way bashfully anticipa- 
ting the further encomiums that he feared might be 
heaped upon him. 

“Now, sir,” continued Mr. Tucker, “you know 
what an artist’s sketching stool is, with a seat at one 
end and a sharp spike at the other. What would 
you think of a man who put the flat end on the 
ground and sat on the point ?” 

Before trusting himself to answer so searching a 
question Tuppy turned the matter over in his mind. 
An unguarded reply might endanger the intellectual 
rapport he had established with his Chief. 

“I think, sir,” he said, after mature consideration, 
“that he might find himself extremely uncomfort- 
able.” 

So far Tuppy felt safe, but what would be the 
next knotty problem he was expected to solve? 


DR. TUPPY 51 

“And what would you think of his mental con- 
dition ?” asked Mr. Tucker. 

“Well, sir,” answered Tuppy tentatively, after a 
further pause for deliberation, “if he was not wear- 
ing a suit of armour I think we might describe him 
as lacking in discretion.” 

“And what would you say, Mr. Tuppy, if he 
placed it in that position as a seat for somebody 
else?” On this matter Tuppy felt confident. 

“If he did it with malice aforethought,” he 
promptly replied, “I think he would deserve horse- 
whipping.” 

Mr. Tucker had hooked his fish, and now he 
proceeded to land him. 

“Then, sir,” he blustered, “what do you think 
ought to be done to a Dresser who puts the padded 
side of a splint next the bed and the rough hard 
wooden surface next the tender skin of a frail little 
girl like this?” 

Then Tuppy realized the heinousness of the mis- 
take he had made. He had subjected poor little 
Sally to suffering. He would gladly have been 
horse-whipped there and then in the Ward, or have 
worn peas in his shoes for a week, to cancel the 
wrong he had done. His Chiefs verbal flagellation 
was nothing to him, and when Mr. Tucker paused 
to take breath, Tuppy very quietly and humbly ven- 
tured to say — 

“Your reproof, sir, seems to me to be wholly 
inadequate.” Why this simple truth that came 
straight from his heart, should stir Mr. Tucker to a 
further outburst of anger was a mystery to Tuppy, 


5 2 


DR. TUPPY 


But so it was, and when the end of the storm would 
have come it is hard to guess, had not Sally 
Chandler herself taken all the force out of the gale 
by remarking, — 

“Please, sir, I likes it much better this way, it’s 
kind o’ ’arder and cooler.” 

It must be confessed that this statement was only 
partially true. The new splint was certainly “ ’arder 
and cooler” but it was also extremely uncomfort- 
able. But, had not the new Doctor brought her a 
large Teddy Bear, and told her a funny story, and 
called her “his little pal,” and wasn't it the impor- 
tantest thing in the world, even more than doing 
what the clergyman told you, to stick up for your 
pal? As for Mr. Tucker, his only acknowledgment 
of Sally Chandler’s remark had been an unpleasant 
scowl. 

“Nurse Jessop,” he said, looking round in search 
of that little person, “if you want to continue your 
share of the amiable reciprocities I interrupted just 
now, you had better employ the time profitably by 
instructing this intelligent gentleman in the uses 
and application of a simple splint. Come, Murray, 
we must get on to the other Wards, eh?” and with 
this final crack of the whip the Huntsman retired 
from the field with the pack of Dressers yapping 
delightedly at his heels. 

From this terrible onslaught Nurse Jessop was 
the first to recover. 

“Brute!” she exclaimed, snapping her fingers at 
the door through which her assailant had vanished. 
With a mournful sigh, and one tender look at his 


DR. TUPPY 


53 


work of Art, Tuppy moved to the head of the bed. 
“Has it hurt yer wery much, Sally-pally ?” he 
asked, caressingly stroking the little girl’s cheek. 

“Lor’, no, Dr. Tupny, it ain’t ’urt nothink to 
speak of. Why ’e'd ’oiler,” she jerked her thumb 
towards the door, “if the sheet was to scrubble ’is 
chin.” 

“We'll soon have it off, pally mine.” 

“It seems ’ard after yer’ve spent so much time 
on it, Dr. Tupny. P’raps it would please yer to 
see it agen in the morning. I’ve got Teddy Bear 
to talk to if it keeps me awake.” 

Tuppy bent down and kissed the little girl’s 
cheek. Sally wondered what he meant by murmur- 
ing to himself “For of such is the Kingdom of 
Heaven.” 

He turned away to the foot of the bed and 
beckoned to Nurse Jessop. 

“Don’t be so upset, Mr. Tuppy,” she implored. 
Tuppy passed his hand quickly over his eyes and 
smiled a typical smile. 

“I'm unusually happy, Nurse, thank you,” he 
replied, “Sally’s forgiven me.” 

“Oh, Mr. Tuppy, however did you come to make 
such a mistake ?” 

“Medical men do make mistakes sometimes, you 
know.” Surely, he thought, this was the reply 
Baxter would have made, and as for himself, well, 
he wasn’t an L.M.S.S.A., but had he not done three 
months in the Medical Out-patients? “I’ve heard 
of qualified men making worse mistakes than that.” 

“Yes, Mr. Tuppy, but you’re not a qualified man.” 


54 


DR. TUPPY 


“No,” he laughed, “I haven’t got that excuse, 
have I? Now, Nurse, if you’ll hold the limb, I’ll 
unroll the bandage. I put it on, I’m the proper 
person to take it off.” 

Really she began to wonder at his casual indiffer- 
ence, his inability to appreciate the enormity of the 
blunder he had made. It was such a silly thing to 
have done. A child would have known better. 

“Who held the limb for you when you did the 
case?” she asked suddenly. Somehow Tuppy had 
forgotten. But Nurse Jessop persisted in her cross- 
examination. Was it Mr. Oscar Smith? Oh, no, 
it wasn’t the Gollywog. Was it Mr. Mason? No, 
he hadn’t spoken to Jumping Jimmy during the 
morning. Was it Mr. Baxter? Well, it might 
possibly have been Mr. Baxter. 

“Of course, it was,” cried Nurse Jessop triumph- 
antly, “I remember now perfectly well. And why 
on earth did he allow you to put on a splint in this 
way ?” 

Tuppy hadn’t considered the subject. Baxter 
was an L.M.S.S.A. and had a right to an opinion of 
his own. To apply splints in this manner might be 
Baxter’s particular method. Or, possibly, Baxter 
knowing that he, Tuppy, being a fool would be sure 
to place it the wrong side up, had mechanically and 
without thinking turned it upside down. 

“Then, it was Mr. Baxter who put it in this posi- 
tion?” Well, yes, Tuppy was bound to admit that 
it was. 

“What a shame,” she blurted out, “he did it on 


DR. TUPPY 55 

purpose to expose you to ridicule.” Tuppy’ s face 
became stern, as stern as it ever could become. 

“You musn’t say that, Nurse,” he replied gravely. 
“That is impossible. Mr. Baxter is my friend.” 

Nurse Jessop turned up her eyes with an expres- 
sion of despair. 

“But why on earth didn’t you tell Mr. Tucker, 
instead of being whipped for another man’s fault?” 

“But you wouldn’t have me give my pal away,” 
he exclaimed in amazement. “We must always 
stick to our pals, musn’t we, Sally?” 

“That’s right, Dr. Tupny,” answered the child, 
cuddling her Teddy Bear, “always stick to yer pal.” 

And this was the man, Nurse Jessop thought to 
herself, whom the world called fool! This monu- 
ment of simplicity, this paragon of chivalry, this 
apotheosis of altruism ! Her heart went out to him; 
she felt herself unworthy to loosen the latchet of 
his shoes. 

“I wish you had asked me to help you, Mr. 
Tuppy,” she ventured to say after a pause. The 
bandage slipped from his hand and rolled on the 
floor. He picked it up, looking very red in the face. 

“I didn’t d-d-dare to presume,” he stuttered. 

“You need somebody to look after you,” she con- 
tinued wistfully. 

“Indeed I do,” was his humble answer. “Indeed 
I do.” 

Suddenly she looked up into his face. 

“Mayn’t I be the person, Mr. Tuppy?” 

“Oh, if you would, Nurse. I should be so, so 
happy.” 


56 


DR. TUPPY 


There was a minute’s silence whilst they finished 
Sally’s splint and made her comfortable — a minute’s 
silence, a strange sweet spell that neither wished to 
break. Then they moved away from the bed. 

“I w-w-wish you knew my Mother,” he stam- 
mered, “she’s such a dear simple little woman. 
Quite different to me. She’s never mixed with the 
world as I have. I w-w-wonder if you w-w-would 
come to lunch if she invited you.” 

“Why of course I would,” Nurse Jessop replied 
readily. 

“You see she’s interested in the Hospital. I told 
her about poor Mrs. ...” Tuppy checked himself 
suddenly and turned crimson. 

“About Mrs. Wright?” she asked, looking at him 
intently, “do you know, Mr. Tuppy, she has had a 
sewing-machine sent her — anonymously.” 

The crimson flush became scarlet and spread to 
the roots of Tuppy’s hair. 

“Yes, she t-t-told me,” he answered. 

“I wonder who it was,” continued Nurse Jessop 
meditatively. “I’m sure it was a man. I wish I 
could meet him. There’s something I should like 
to say to him if he’d only give me the chance.” 

Tuppy looked at his watch; he suddenly remem- 
bered he had work to do in the Surgery. 

“P-p-perhaps you will meet him some day, 
Nurse,” he said, hurriedly holding out his hand. 
“Well, good-bye, I’m so grateful to you for helping 
me, and remember you’re coming to lunch at the 
Rectory. That’s a promise, isn’t it?” 

“That’s a promise, Mr. Tuppy,” she answered 


DR. TUPPY 57 

with a laugh, “and you know we must be true to 
our pals.” 

Tuppy walked across the quadrangle with his 
head in the air, the happiest and proudest of men. 
She had called him her pal. 

The fountain played and splashed in the Hospital 
Square, its sparkling water dancing to a measure 
of its own; the birds sang gaily to each other in 
the trees; but the music to which Tuppy’s buoyant 
steps sg> joyfully kept time was the love-song in his 
heart. 

With kindling eyes Nurse Jessop watched him 
from the window of the Ward until he disappeared 
from sight, and then she speeded to the Little 
Sister’s room. 

“Sister,” she cried, clapping her hands delightedly, 
“I’ve guessed who sent the sewing-machine. Now, 
who do you think it was ?” 

“I haven’t the slightest idea, Nurse.” 

“But guess, Sister, guess.” 

“I never was good at riddles, dear, you’ll have 
to tell me.” 

“Why— Mr. Tuppy.” 


CHAPTER IV 


“All stratagems are lawful in revenge.” 


Ravenscroft. 


“ ERTAINLY, Charlie,” said Mrs. Tuppy, “I 



shall be delighted, but I do think it would 
be advisable to choose a day when your father is 
out. You know how peculiar he is, especially at 
meals.” Yes, Tuppy was only too well aware of the 
Canon’s peculiarities. 

“That’s just what I was going to suggest, mother 
dear,” he replied. 

“Well, shall we say next Thursday week? On 
that day he’s engaged to lunch at the Bishop’s.” 
Tuppy thought it a long time to wait, but, otherwise, 
that Thursday week would do admirably. 

So Mrs. Tuppy sat down at once and wrote the 
letter in her neat old-fashioned hand. 

“And how am I to address it, Charlie ? To Miss 
Jessop or Nurse Jessop?” 

To Miss Jessop, certainly, was Tuppy’s opinion. 
She was not being invited as a Hospital Nurse but 
in her private capacity. 

“But I hope she’ll come in her uniform,” Mrs. 
Tuppy exclaimed. “Nurses always look so clean 
in their uniform.” Tuppy was of the opinion that 


58 


DR. TUPPY 


59 


Nurse Jessop would look clean in anything, also 
that when one invited a lady to lunch it was not 
quite comme il faut to dictate to her as to the dress 
she should wear. 

Mrs. Tuppy smiled significantly to herself. She 
had never seen Charlie nettled before. 

“I suppose/’ he continued, “you couldn’t persuade 
Francesca to go out for the day. I’d like to have 
Nurse Jessop all to ourselves.” 

Mrs. Tuppy feared that was impossible. Fran- 
cesca possessed a will of her own. 

“I wish she possessed a temper of her own,” 
Tuppy replied. 

“But, surely, my dear Charlie, I’ve heard you 
complain of her having a temper.” 

“No, mother dear, only of her being unable to 
keep it. Don’t stamp the envelope, please. I’ll 
take it myself.” 

And, so, the next day, Tuppy started out be- 
times from his Aunt’s house in Kensington, his 
precious letter buttoned securely in his breast-pocket 
next his heart. It was a lovely summer’s morning, 
just the morning for a walk across the parks, and 
then a taxi would soon carry him to the Hospital in 
the purlieus of the City. As he strode over the 
springy turf still glistening with dew, and breathed 
the sweet earth-scented freshness of the opening day, 
he felt that it was good to live. He had so much for 
which to thank God ; his health, his independence of 
his family, his environment of restfulness and love. 
And now, a new and wondrous thing had come to 
him. A thing which it would have been temerity to 


6o 


DR. TUPPY 


expect, for which he had never even dared to hope. 
Within three short days the whole world had 
changed. Three days? it was not two. Forty-eight 
hours ago, he did not know that such a person as 
Nurse Jessop lived. What a lucky thing it was 
that Baxter had made the mistake about the splint ! 
Every word that Nurse Jessop had said, and every 
look she had given him, were imprinted for ever on 
his brain. But did he deceive himself? Was he 
building a palace with a pack of cards? “You need 
somebody to look after you,” she had said, and then 
she had asked if she might be that person. He had 
felt his heart beat faster, but perhaps — perhaps she 
had only meant that, being such a fool, he needed 
help in the Wards, and that she, angel as she was, 
would give it. And then another fear entered his 
mind through the door that doubt had opened. She 
had referred to Mrs. Wright’s gift as anonymous, 
and of the giver, she had used the ominous words, 
“There’s something I should like to say to him if 
he’d give me the chance.” Was it to tell him that 
no circumstances in the world justified an anony- 
mous communication, not even a gift? It was a 
view he had always held himself. And yet he had 
sent the sewing-machine anonymously. It made its 
acceptance more easy, and prevented the possibility 
of its being refused. But in that very prevention 
lay the offence. He reverted to his old opinion. In 
personal communications, no circumstances, how- 
ever good the motive might be, could justify 
anonymity. At the best it was a solecism, at the 
worst a crime. He had once thoughtlessly wounded 


DR. TUPPY 


61 


a man’s vanity by referring to him as a city clerk. 
The clerk’s revenge had been a series of scurrilous 
letters and postcards in a disguised handwriting. 
Tuppy had treated them as garbage, and with the 
tongs had dropped them one by one into the fire. 
But he had wondered that a creature so contemptible 
and vile could be born in human form. Compared 
with such a one, an assassin who stabbed his 
neighbour in the back was a hero, in daring at least 
to run the risk of being caught red-handed in the 
act. But he would not soil his thoughts with these 
memories. However Nurse Jessop might blame his 
judgment, at least she would not question his mo- 
tive, and he felt sure she would be just. 

He entered the Surgery as the Hospital clock 
was clanging out the hour of nine, a few minutes 
later than his ordinary time. That was perhaps 
why Baxter did not meet him as usual with his 
cheery “Hullo, Twopenny, old chap,” and a friendly 
slap on the back, and kindly offer to hang up his 
hat, which somehow he invariably managed to drop 
on the dusty floor. Baxter was such a splendid 
fellow, Tuppy thought, physically so tall and shape- 
ly, so handsome, too, with that prominent square-cut 
chin, and white shining teeth that glistened when he 
smiled. In secret Tuppy worshipped him as a 
paragon of honour, his beau ideal of a true and loyal 
heart. His pretended cynicism appealed to Tuppy’s 
sense of humour. “Your golden sovereign,” Baxter 
was fond of saying, “is your only true friend. He 
never fails you.” But Tuppy would not have ex- 
changed Baxter for ten thousand golden sovereigns. 


62 


DR. TUPPY 


This morning, however, Baxter was absorbed in his 
work and only glanced at Tuppy as he passed. But, 
at length, the Surgery cases were finished and in 
the interim, before entering the Wards, Tuppy 
found his opportunity of speaking to his friend. 

“Dear old Dick,” he said, putting his hand affec- 
tionately on his comrade's shoulder, “at last Pve got 
a chance of thanking you.” 

“Of thanking me,” replied Baxter somewhat 
sheepishly, “for what?” 

“Why, f-f-for all you d-d-did for him yesterday,” 
interposed the Gollywog who was standing by. 

“Yes,” continued Tuppy, “for all you did for me 
yesterday. It turned out so splendidly for both 
of us.” * 

Baxter looked from one to the other in puzzled 
surprise. Was Oscar Smith going to run with the 
hare, after hunting with the hounds? Was this a 
plant arranged between them ? 

“And what was so splendid for both of us?” he 
asked coldly. 

“Why the blunder about the splint. I m-m-mean,” 
Tuppy continued, beginning to stutter, “the f-fact 
that, on the subject of splinting, your views and 
Mr. Tucker's are not quite at one.” It was not 
only his anxiety to avoid wounding his friend's 
feelings that made him so suddenly nervous, but 
also the fact that, without disclosing the joy of his 
subsequent interview with Nurse Jessop, it was 
difficult to explain why the fiasco of the splint had 
proved to him to be such a splendid event. But 
Baxter's cause for satisfaction was evident. 


DR. TUPPY 


“You see, Dick,” he went on delightedly, “when 
you have to put up a splint of your own, you’ll 
now know exactly how it ought to be done.” 

“Good God,” shouted Baxter, “you don’t imag- 
ine ” He checked himself suddenly. If he 

told Tuppy the truth, if he confessed to this imbecile 
that he had deliberately tricked and bamboozled 
him, the fox would be killed outright, the hounds 
would be deprived of their quarry. No, for the 
present, Reynard must be allowed to rest in his 
cover, so that on some future occasion they might 
have the enjoyment of a run to the death. 

This journey Baxter felt he’d had a nasty fall 
from his horse and had pitched in the mud, and, 
unhappily, the Gollywog was there to enjoy his 
discomfiture. 

“Yes, Dick,” chuckled the latter, “when you have 
to p-p-put up a splint of your own, you’ll now 
know exactly how it o-o-ought to be done.” 

“It doesn’t matter Mr. Tucker thinking that I 
am a fool,” Tuppy went on, unconsciously rubbing 
it in, “but it’s a different thing in the case of a 
prospective House Surgeon.” 

“Oh, stow it,” exclaimed Baxter, turning his 
back on Tuppy with a gesture of impatience. 
“Gollywog, come and have a drink in my room 
before doing the Wards. And, Jimmy, give my 
compliments to Professor Morgan, and ask if he’ll 
make a fourth at a short rubber of Bridge.” The 
three men beat a hasty retreat, rather to Tuppy’s 
surprise. 

“Poor old Dick,” he said to himself compassion- 


DR. TUPPY 


ately, “I wish he wouldn’t worry so over that splint ; 
anybody may make a mistake.” 

“Now, boys, give it a name,” said Mr. Dick 
Baxter, when he and his three companions were 
comfortably ensconced in his room in the College. 
“What’s yours, Professor?” 

“My dear Dick,” replied the gentleman so ad- 
dressed, “as Junior House Surgeon I must protest 
against these most unseemly proceedings. If you 
searched the Hospitals of Great Britain I feel sure 
you would not encounter such disorderly conduct. 
This is reverting to the vices of our forefathers. 
The modern medical student neither drinks, nor 
plays cards. Whisky and soda for me please, and 
let’s cut for partners at once, as I’m on duty in the 
Surgery at twelve.” 

“Right you are. What’s yours, Gollywog?” 

“Bass for me, Dick.” 

“Soda and milk here,” said Jimmy Mason. 

“And a whisky and soda for me,” continued the 
host, helping himself first. “Gollywog, you must 
open your own beer. I’m too hot.” 

“You’ve reason to be hot; you’ve just been nicely 
had on toast.” 

“Curse the fellow, yes,” was the amiable reply. 
“By Jove, I’d like to make a real thundering fool 
of him.” 

“You cannot improve on Nature’s handiwork,” 
said the Gollywog sententiously ; “here! you and 
I are partners. The same points as usual, I suppose, 
two bob a hundred ?” 

“I’d like,” continued Baxter, dealing out the cards 


DR. TUPPY 


65 


with savage emphasis, “I'd like to make such an 
egregious ass of him, that it would be remembered 
for ever in the annals of the Hospital. Pd like 
to turn him into such a laughing-stock, that men 
would hold their sides in merriment at the very 
sound of his name.” 

“Referring to?” inquired the Professor. 

“Referring to that fool Tuppy.” 

“Oh, hang 'the missing link.’ Get on with the 
game. I go no trumps.” They finished the hand in 
silence. 

“That's twenty-four to us,” chirped the Pro- 
fessor, “aces easy.” 

“Grinning, oily, sickly-amiable ape,” continued 
Baxter, following his own line of thought, “who 
only gibbers at you with delight, and thanks you 
when you've fairly caught him by the tail.” 

“You’re hard hit, Dick.” 

“Well, wouldn't you be, if any one dared to 
imagine you didn't know the right side of a splint 
from the wrong? What can you do with a fool 
like that?” 

“Well, finish the rubber and we'll consider the 
proposition seriously. There's somebody knocking. 
You'd better go to the door, Dick.” 

“Is Mr. Morgan here, sir?” asked a voice outside. 
“There’s a case in the Surgery.” 

“Oh, is that you, Hawkins?” shouted the Pro- 
fessor. “Come in. That's not my case, you know. 
It hasn't struck twelve.” 

“It's a minute past by the Surgery clock, sir,” 
replied the Porter. 


66 


DR. TUPPY 


“Oh, hang the Surgery clock. Here’s a shilling 
for you, and run and tell Sir William’s Junior 
House Surgeon that the case came in before twelve 
and belongs to him.” 

“Yes, sir. Thank’ee, sir.” 

“Now we can get on,” continued the Professor. 
“Spades? I double spades.” 

“You’re playing badly, Dick,” remarked the 
Gollywog after the loss of seven tricks in succession. 
“They’ll get a little slam.” 

“Hang him,” replied his partner irrelevantly, 
“monkey-faced idiot.” 

“Oh! leave Tuppy alone, Dick, and attend to 
the cards.” 

“Yes, Pll leave him alone when I’ve hanged, 
drawn and quartered him, and stuck his ugly head 
as a gargoyle over the Hospital gates.” 

The Gollywog winked at Jumping Jimmy, and 
Jimmy winked at the Gollywog. They had never 
seen their leader so hipped before. 

“Four tricks,” remarked the Professor, “that’s 
game to us. Confound it, I hear Hawkins’ fairy 
footsteps on the stairs. Oh, come in.” 

“Boy wants a tooth out, sir,” said the Porter, 
poking his head into the room; “says it aches 
hawful.” 

“All right, Hawkins. I’ll come at once. A 
chance for you, Gollywog, you haven’t drawn a 
tooth yet.” The Professor quickly lighted another 
cigarette. “Now, boys, we must finish the rubber. 
Whose deal is it ? Hurry up.” 

But the rubber refused to be hurried; first it 


DR. TUPPY 


67 


favoured one side, and then the other, and a quarter 
of an hour later, when another tap came at the door, 
it was, after a wearisome repetition of spade de- 
clares, still struggling against final extinction. 

“A haccident case just come in, sir.” 

“Bleeding?” asked the Professor. 

“No, sir, not bleeding; looks like a sprained 
hankie.” 

“Very well, Hawkins, I’ll be down directly.” 

The cards fell in quick succession on the table. 

“The rubber, at last!” exclaimed Baxter, “and 
you’ve won.” 

“Because you were thinking more of Tuppy than 
of the game, my dear Dick. This Tuppy seems to 
distress you. Why don’t you duck him in the 
fountain ?” 

“We would at once, but there seems no justifica- 
tion.” 

“Isn’t he a canting Anti-Vivisectionist ?” 

“Yes, but it’s not safe to duck a man simply 
because he’s dotty. He must be universally un- 
popular. ‘Dr.’ Tuppy isn’t. I don’t want people 
to condole with him, but to ridicule him, to scoff at 
the very sound of his name.” 

“Easiest thing in the world, my boy. Persuade 
him to join the Dramatic Club, flatter his vanity, 
put up Hamlet and cast him in the part of the 
melancholy Dane. Think of a Hamlet soliloquizing 
with a mug like that, and trying to look tragic 
with that eternal grin. Why the audience would 
rock with laughter and be stifled with apoplectic 
mirth.” 


68 


DR. TUPPY 


“By Jove — Pve got it,” exclaimed Baxter sud- 
denly, “if your way fails, Pve got another. Do you 
remember that Consultation sketch you two chaps 
did? Dramatis personae, Mr. Tucker, F.R.S., as 
represented by Mr. James Mason; Sir William 
Fell, as represented by Mr. Oscar Smith. The men 
said they were life-like impersonations, and so they 
were. Now listen, and when you speak, don’t 
speak loudly. Baby Brownlow has just come into 
his room and can hear everything through this 
beastly communicating door.” He bent forward 
to his companions and whispered in their ears. 

“Excellent!” said the Professor, “I don’t mind 
helping you in that.” 

“Splendid!” laughed the Gollywog. 

“Glorious!” cried Jimmy Mason, “but you’ll have 
to square one of the porters.” 

“Oh, we’ll get hold of old Hawkins. He keeps 
the keys, and for five bob and a bottle of whisky, 
he’d throw open the whole school for us. Talk of 
the Devil Come in, Hawkins, come in.” 

“Man just brought in dead, sir.” 

“Good biz,” said the Junior House Surgeon, 
“another guinea in my pocket !” 

“By Jove, you are a lucky chap, Professor. 
That’s the second deader you’ve had in a fortnight.” 

“And if you please, sir,” continued the insistent 
Hawkins, “there’s a cut ’ead, very drunk, and a 
woman with a smashed ’and — she’s bleedin’ freely.” 

The Professor was up in an instant. 

“Gollywog, you do the tooth. Jimmy, look after 
the drunk. Come and help me with the hand, Dick. 


DR. TUPPY 69 

The deader can wait.” And the four men brushed 
past the Porter and ran down the stairs to the 
Surgery. 

In the meantime, it need hardly be said, Tuppy 
had made a bee-line across the Square to Mary 
Ward, and in order that everything might be open 
and above board, had formally requested the Little 
Sister to deliver into Nurse Jessop's hands a cer- 
tain precious document he carried in his pocket next 
his heart; that, thereupon Nurse Jessop had retired 
into the Ward kitchen to peruse the aforesaid 
document, and that, after due consultation with 
Sister Mary as to whether she could go off duty on 
Thursday week, she had come to Tuppy, her face 
wreathed in smiles, and said it would give her great 
pleasure to accept Mrs. Tuppy's kind invitation. 
A letter to that effect would follow in due course. 

Then it occurred to both of them that, as Tuppy 
happened to be in the Ward, it would be an excellent 
opportunity to have a look at Sally Chandler's leg. 
Not that there was any reason to suppose it had 
walked off in the night, or that Sally's splint had 
grown longer or shorter, but still, you know, in 
some cases one can't be too particular. As a matter 
of fact, Tuppy's immaculate bandage was almost as 
immaculate as when he left it on the previous after- 
noon, but, whilst he smoothed out an imaginary 
crease here or tucked in an illusory thread there, 
he found an opportunity of imparting to Nurse 
Jessop certain pieces of information and giving her 
certain instructions that might prove of service to 


70 


DR. TUPPY 


her on the occasion which was uppermost in their 
minds. 

First of all, to be quite safe, she must leave the 
Hospital by a quarter-past one; she had better take 
a motor bus down the Strand and dismount at the 
corner of Wellington Street, that being a spot where 
the motor buses condescended to stop. Then she 
must inquire her way to Covent Garden. But 
Nurse Jessop knew Covent Garden well, and loved 
it. vShe often went there early to buy flowers for 
the Ward. 

“Well,” answered Tuppy, becoming quite lo- 
quacious in anticipation of the joys of Thursday 
week, “as a market it may be delightful, as a place 
of residence it is not. Its chief attractions are the 
stimulating influences to be derived from the bray- 
ing of costers' donkeys and a liberal education in 
those vocables of the vernacular which are ex- 
pressive but not parliamentary.” Nurse Jessop 
laughed. She was happy enough to laugh at 
anything. 

“Then you must ask for St. Peter's Rectory,” 
continued Tuppy. “The house has no number, but 
when you once see it you can't possibly mistake it. 
It looks like a church.” 

“Like a church?” 

“Like a small red-brick church. But if you have 
any doubts in your mind, just look at the door. 
Under the letter-box you will find painted the 
strange device — ‘Put letters in Box — Do not ring — 
Close the gate.' That was my father's idea. He 
bears a particular enmity towards the front door 


DR. TUPPY 


7 1 


bell, and, much to the exasperation of impatient 
callers, sometimes has it muffled for weeks at a time. 
The notice is not very hospitable and always seems 
to me to imply the further instruction of ‘Go away 
and be — blessed’; but my father thinks I’m hyper- 
critical.” 

“But how is one to get in if one doesn’t ring?” 
asked Nurse Jessop. 

“Well, to tell the truth, the directions are meant 
only for the postman. Anyhow, my father will be 
away on Thursday week, so you can ring the bell to 
your heart’s content.” 

“You’ll excuse me saying so, Mr. Tuppy, but I’m 
rather glad that Canon Tuppy won’t be at home.” 

“Not more than I am, Nurse, I can assure you. 
And I’d willingly give Francesca a fiver to go and 
spend the day in the country.” 

“Who is Francesca?” 

“My eldest sister. If she’s in a bad temper — 
she calls it having a sick headache — she is quite 
capable of telling you she hopes it will be a long 
time before she has the pleasure of seeing you again. 
Excepting my mother, who is the dearest little 
woman in the world, we’re a very peculiar family, 
and if you want to preserve your equanimity I 
advise you to imagine you’ve been asked out to 
* lunch in an asylum.” Tuppy knew he was speaking 
in hyperbole, but he was anxious to prepare Nurse 
Jessop for the worst. 

“Hullo, Carrots,” interrupted a voice, “may I join 
your class of fools?” They turned and found the 
Gollywog standing behind them. 


72 


DR. TUPPY 


“How dare you call me Carrots, Mr. Smith,” 
exclaimed the little Nurse, stamping her foot with 
rage; “you’ll please remember in future that my 
name is Nurse Jessop.” She turned on her heel 
abruptly and walked down the Ward. The Golly- 
wog chuckled softly to himself. Tuppy went right 
up to him, as red as a turkey-cock. 

“G-g-g-gollywog,” he said, “if you insult that 
1-1-lady again, I’ll p-p-punch your head.” 


CHAPTER V 


“This hud of love, by Summer’s ripening breath, 

May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.” 

Romeo and Juliet. 

a F\0 I know St. Peter’s Rectory?” repeated 
I J the policeman, “Lor’, yes, miss, we all 
know it on this beat, and the Canon, too. ’E’s 
so often round at Bow Street complainin’ o’ some- 
thin’. Take the first turning to the left and you’ll 
see it opposight but further along.” 

She turned to the left, and ran her eye down the 
street. Yes, that must be the house, the one with 
the handsome oak doors, the irregular outline, the 
serrated red-brick front clothed with Virginian 
creeper. If it was not quite like a church it was 
certainly quaint and ecclesiastical in appearance, 
and she did not wonder that, as Mr. Tuppy had 
told her, it was no unusual occurrence for strangers 
to stop and inquire at what hour the “services” 
were held. She crossed the road to get a closer 
view. Yes, there was the inscription on the door: 
“Put letters in the box. Do not ring. Close the 
Gate,” and there was the insistent bell, as if con- 
scious of the Canon’s enmity — guiltily hiding it- 
self in the thick-leaved vine. She had hardly put 
73 


74 


DR. TUPPY 


her feet on the steps when the oaken doors were 
thrown open. 

“I was watching for you, Nurse,” Tuppy ex- 
claimed. “Come in. How are you?” 

Her appearance bewitched him. She was wear- 
ing a perfectly fitting lavender gown with a dainty 
chiffon scarf and toque to match, two pink Mal- 
maisons tucked into her belt. 

“How are you, Mr. Tuppy? Why you look 
positively pale. What on earth's the matter?” 

Tuppy put his finger to his lips, then beckoned 
to his guest to follow him. 

“Come in here a moment. This is the Dad's 
study.” He closed the door carefully and then 
continued in a mysterious whisper: “My dear Miss 
Jessop, a most unfortunate thing has happened — 
Aunt Maria arrived unexpectedly last night. I've 
told you about Aunt Maria. She's the one we call 
our mad Aunt. You know they all say I have got 
Aunt Maria's mouth.” 

Nurse Jessop broke into a laugh. 

“Well, she won't eat me, will she?” 

“Oh, you don't understand. She's really awful. 
She won't let another person get a word in edge- 
ways. And,” added Tuppy pathetically, “I did 
want you to know my dear little mother.” 

At the time, Nurse Jessop failed to understand 
why the presence of Aunt Maria should seriously 
interfere with her getting on familiar terms with 
Mrs. Tuppy. It was not until she had returned to 
the Hospital that she realized that Mrs. Titmarsh's 
remarkable and somewhat aggressive personality 


DR. TUPPY 


75 


had so absorbed her attention as to prevent her 
receiving any definite impression of the other 
members of the family circle. She vaguely re- 
called her introduction to Francesca, the severity 
of Francesca’s frown, how stiffly she had bowed, 
and how red she had got in the face. She could 
remember that Mrs. Tuppy had a soft, gentle 
voice, a charming graciousness of manner and a 
sweet expression. But of Aunt Maria she carried 
away a definite clear-cut mental portrait, which 
for days to come asserted itself as an amusing 
memory and made her smile against her will. She 
could recall every attitude the old lady had as- 
sumed, and almost every word of her voluble 
loquacity. 

Mrs. Titmarsh still affected the fashions of fifty 
years ago, her smooth partly-greyed hair being 
trained in a drooping fold on either side so as to 
envelop the ear and breaking into coquettish cork- 
screw ringlets at the back. The cap, a triumph 
of elaboration, was secured with black jet pins of 
extraordinary length. 

Tuppy’s supposed physical resemblance to his 
Aunt was one of his sorest points, and Nurse Jes- 
sop felt really pleased to be able to assure him 
subsequently that the resemblance was more imag- 
inary than real. Aunt Maria’s eyes were large, 
dull and prominent. Tuppy’s small, bright and 
deep-set. Maria’s nose was Roman and of a 
marked type — Tuppy’s only just escaped being a 
pug. Maria’s chin was retreating — Tuppy’s square 
and firm. Tuppy’s mouth only resembled his 


76 


DR. TUPPY 


Aunt’s in its unusual size — the expressions were 
totally different. “And may no power the giftie 
gie us to see ourselves as — our relations see us,” 
she paraphrased to herself. 

In the Canon’s absence, it was Aunt Maria’s 
custom to seat herself in his place at the head of 
the table. Poor Mrs. Tuppy never missed her hus- 
band more than when his sister was staying with 
her, end somehow — it was most remarkable and 
unfortunate — the week his sister stayed with her 
always happened to be the time when “George” 
was most called away. 

The saying of grace before a meal had acquired 
at the Rectory the dignity of a ceremony. On 
these occasions the second Miss Tuppy, who had 
high-church proclivities, made the sign of the 
cross. Tuppy always listened to his mother, when 
she made her little humble offering of prayer, not 
only with respect, but with some emotion; but 
Aunt Maria was accustomed to say grace in a tone 
which aroused his spleen, and which certainly sug- 
gested that she merely wished to call the attention 
of the Almighty to the condescension she was pay- 
ing Him. On this particular occasion, when, be- 
fore the beginning of the meal, she, inaccurately, 
but most seriously and distinctly, delivered herself 
of the unexpected and unnecessary supplication — 

“For what we have received may the Lord make us truly 
thankful,” 

Tuppy broke incontinently into a loud guffaw. 

“Charles!” remonstrated Mrs. Tuppy, mildly. 


DR. TUPPY 


77 


“I know it was foolish of me,” Tuppy said to 
Nurse Jessop afterwards, “for in nine cases out of 
ten Maria always does say the wrong grace. I 
really wanted to cover the laugh which you might 
have been betrayed into. I did want you to make 
a good impression.” 

Aunt Maria made no comment, but with head 
poised slightly on one side she fixed Tuppy with 
an unblinking, coldly critical stare. Then she 
poised her head on the other side and favoured 
Nurse Jessop in a similar manner. 

“I understand you are a Hospital Nurse, Miss 
Jessop.” 

“I have that honour, Mrs. Titmarsh.” 

“Honour?” sniffed Aunt Maria, “I’d rather be 
a housemaid.” 

If Tuppy had known his guest better, he would 
have pressed her toe under the table as a sign to 
her not to reply. Aunt Maria possessed a positive 
genius for saying the thing that would wound. 
Argue with her, and, as Tuppy knew to his cost, 
you would soon feel the sharpness of her sting. 
Leave her alone and she would meander into 
one of her long-winded inconsequent monologues 
which were harmless in their very fatuity. But 
Nurse Jessop was not the sort of person to be 
snubbed. 

“Well, of course, there’s no accounting for taste, 
Mrs. Titmarsh,” she replied, “and if you had de- 
cided to be a housemaid, I am sure you would have 
made an excellent one.” 

“You’re perfectly right, Miss Hissop. What- 


78 


DR. TUPPY 


ever I've undertaken in life, I’ve always done well. ,, 
She turned a glassy eye on the little Nurse and 
paused with a meaning smile. “I suppose the 
fascination of a Nurse's life is that it brings you 
in close contact with the men. ,, Nurse Jessop felt 
the sting, and jumped. 

“I abominate the men,” she snapped. “I al- 
ways did.” 

“Ever excepting poor Charles, I hope,” replied 
Mrs. Titmarsh with affable urbanity. At this 
double and deeper stab, Tuppy shifted uneasily on 
his chair; it is difficult to say whether he or his 
guest felt the more uncomfortable. “I suppose,” 
continued his aunt, gently rubbing salt into the 
wound, “I suppose there is no other calling a 
woman can follow, not counting a barmaid's, of 
course, in which she is so constantly and so closely 
thrown into touch with the male sex as in that of 
nursing. Now, barmaids, they tell me, are too 
busy to have time to flirt. But Nurses have really 
so little to do.” 

“So little to do,” echoed Nurse Jessop indig- 
nantly. “Well, we're not quite as much over- 
worked as we used to be. The modern Nurse gen- 
erally gets a couple of hours to herself every day, 
and generally a half-day every week. But let me 
give you an idea, Mrs. Titmarsh, of what a full 
day's work consisted when I began nursing some 
six years ago. Up at 6 a.m., breakfast at 6.30 — 
7 to 10 make beds and attend to patients, 10 to 12 
wait on House Surgeon. Then half an hour off 
for dinner. At 12.30 serve patients’ dinners, 1.30 


DR. TUPPY 


79 


to 2 straighten Wards for the Staff Surgeons, 2 
to 4 follow the Surgeons round, 4 to 4.30 serve 
patients’ tea. Then half an hour off for our own 
tea. 5.30 to 8 sweep the Ward, attend to patients, 
make beds again — at 8 p.m. prayers in Ward, from 
8 to 9 very often a lecture, at 9 p.m. supper, and 
then to bed. Fourteen hours’ continuous work 
with one hour off for meals.” 

“Just what I say,” replied Aunt Maria, shifting 
her ground with smiling complacency, “a house- 
maid’s position is far to be preferred.” 

Then Nurse Jessop, realizing that to argue with 
such an opponent was to beat the air, wisely 
relapsed into silence, and Aunt Maria, like an 
unmolested bee, sheathed her sting and buzzed 
inconsequently from flower to flower. 

“Georgiana, are you going to the Abbey next 
Sunday? Charles, are you going? I was very fond 
of the Abbey when I was a girl. I remember when 
I was your age, I used to count all the brass knobs 
on the opposite side of the choir, except when 
Mr. Simpkins was there, and then I used to count 
the buttons on his waistcoat, they were brass too, 
you know. Poor Mr. Simpkins, he used to be so 
fond of carrying my camp-stool for me. I can’t 
see nearly as well now. My pupil never dilates or 
contracts now. It used to when I was young. 
Poor Mr. Simpkins, he was so handsome, one don’t 
see such handsome men nowadays. The human 
race is gradually deteriorating; all the handsome 
men were killed at Waterloo.” 

It was only the necessity of taking a little food 


8o 


DR. TUPPY 


that made Aunt Maria reluctantly pause. Mrs. 
Tuppy availed herself of the momentary silence by 
mildly replying to her sister's original question. 
She did not intend going to the Abbey next Sun- 
day, but perhaps on the morrow, being Friday. 

“Dear me Georgiana, what do you want to go 
to church to-morrow for? To go to church on 
Sundays is a very seemly and respectable thing, 
society couldn't do without it. Prayer is all very 
right and proper in its way, but to go to church 
on week-days is perfectly ridiculous. We are no 
better than our forefathers, and they didn't require 
it. Charles, what was that pretty tune you were 
playing this morning? I think it must be thor- 
oughbass; I remember Mr. Simpkins used to play 
a pretty tune, and that was thoroughbass." 

Aunt Maria took some more refreshment and 
commenced again with renewed vigour. 

“Have you ever seen a wild cat, Miss Blessop? 
I remember Mr. Simpkins used to say that the last 
was shot on Sir Thomas Gore's property in 1826. 
I have often wondered how he found out, but he 
was a great naturalist and perhaps killed all the 
others himself. Talking of wild cats, have you ever 
read The Pirate and the Three Cutters ? It would 
suit you, I think." 

“Why, Maria, how silly you are!" remonstrated 
Mrs. Tuppy with a laugh. “ The Pirate and the 
Three Cutters is a book for children." 

“Nonsense, Georgiana, the one you speak of 
must be another pirate and three cutters. It is 
a much better book, Charles, than that stupid 


DR. TUPPY 


81 


Shakespeare you were reading to-day. Shake- 
speare is all very well in his way, but we give up 
poetry with our skipping ropes. I learnt him at 
school. I would have all authors and painters and 
poets turned into a large field and made plough- 
boys of. They are half mad. They should be put 
in an asylum; and if I were a doctor I would send 
all mad patients for a sea voyage and give them 
very little to eat. I haven’t done, Georgiana — 
Mary, give me some more butter. Have you read 
the paper to-day, Miss Hissop? It is curious how 
many men have come forward in prominent posi- 
tions lately. There’s General Taylor for instance. 
He died only last week. Poor man! he walked 
fifty miles once in one day for a wager. Mr. Simp- 
kins said he would die after it. I can’t think why 
General Taylor’s son Alphonso didn’t go into the 
army. You know, he’s a schoolmaster at Eton. 
Teaching is a very respectable calling in its way, 
one don’t deny it. Very legitimate and all that 
sort of thing. There must have been some special 
reason; I believe he was a younger son. One don’t 
expect the younger sons to do; if they live and 
grow up it’s quite enough — I’ve done, Georgiana 
— I remember going to a Dr. Russell’s once. Doc- 
tors are all very well in their way, but I wonder 
mamma let me go, and he showed me a . . . 

For what we are going to receive 
May the Lord make us truly thankful — 

. . . skeleton in his cupboard; do doctors keep 
skeletons in their cupboards nowadays, Charles?” 


82 


DR. TUPPY 


and without waiting for a reply Aunt Maria rose 
and sailed towards the door, which Tuppy gal- 
lantly opened for her, as she swept out of the room. 
Then the family circle turned up its eyes in smiling 
despair. 

“I’m so sorry, Miss Jessop,” murmured Mrs. 
Tuppy, in her soft, gentle voice, “that my sister- 
in-law’s visit has clashed with yours, but Charlie 
must bring you again another day.” 

“Oh, Mrs. Tuppy, I’ve really been most inter- 
ested.” 

“Yes, yes, and amused, my dear. I quite under- 
stand. Mrs. Titmarsh means very well; but she’s 
a little bit old-fashioned and quaint. Now, Charlie 
dear, come upstairs and give us a little music and 
then you had better see Miss Jessop into a ’bus. 
I shall never get a chance of talking to her to- 
day.” 

Tuppy at the piano was a Tuppy transfigured. 
It was strange, Nurse Jessop thought, to ask him 
to play, and then not to make the slightest pre- 
tence of listening to him. As for herself, the talk- 
ing distracted her, she did not want to become 
involved in further polemics with Aunt Maria; she 
moved away from the group of chatterers and sat 
on a low chair close to the piano. Tuppy could 
not see her, but he became vaguely conscious of 
a strange sweet presence that inspired him to play 
his favourite Rhapsody of Liszt, with a verve and 
feeling he had never known before. Then, as he 
paused a moment for another motif , his mobile 
fingers unconsciously began to improvise a tender 


DR. TUPPY 83 

haunting melody, and every chord he struck found 
a mysterious echo in the little Nurse’s heart. 

Even Aunt Maria was prompted to stay her flow 
of language for an instant and to gaze through her 
lorgnettes in the direction of the piano. She 
sniffed aggressively — when she observed Nurse 
Jessop’s lips parted as if eagerly drinking in every 
note of music, and the rapt expression of Nurse 
Jessop’s face. She turned to her sister-in-law. 

“You’ll have trouble with that ginger-haired 
girl, Georgiana. Mark my words, she’s setting her 
cap at Charles.” 

“Nonsense, Maria,” Mrs. Tuppy answered. “I’m 
glad to see Charlie taking an interest in anything 
feminine. I think it will be an excellent influence 
for him.” 

“The sooner this sort of thing is stopped, the 
better,” persisted Aunt Maria pointing to the 
piano. 

“Well, dear, Charlie is just finishing, and then 
they are going out together.” 

“Going out together! Somebody ought to go 
with them. I’d go myself, if I was younger.” 

“It’s only to the ’bus, Maria; somebody must 
take her to the ’bus.” 

But when Tuppy and his companion got down 
to the bottom of Wellington Street, Nurse Jessop 
elected to walk. On such a fine day the Embank- 
ment would be lovely, and she had more than an 
hour to spare. 

“Then I’ll walk with you if I may,” said Tuppy, 
“I’ve got to be at the Hospital precisely at five.” 


8 4 


DR. TUPPY 


“You’re joking, Mr. Tuppy. Why the place will 
be empty, there won’t be a Staff Surgeon left.” 

But Tuppy was never more serious in his life and 
he wouldn’t be late for a hundred pounds. They 
walked down Savoy Street in silence, the little 
Nurse vainly trying to puzzle out what this 
precious engagement might be. But after all, it 
was not for her to inquire. 

“I did love your music, Mr. Tuppy,” she said 
after a pause. 

“I wish I had learned to play,” he answered 
earnestly. 

“Learned to play! Why you play exquisitely. 
What on earth do you mean?” 

“Did you ever hear any of the great pianists?” 
he asked. 

Nurse Jessop shook her head. 

“Go and hear one when you have a chance. 
Then you will understand.” 

“I’d rather hear you than fifty of the great 
pianists,” she answered, making a little moue. 

“I 1-1-like you to say that,” he stammered. “It 
reflects of course on your m-musical taste, but it 
shows that you are my p-pal.” 

Really at this rate Aunt Maria’s presence would 
soon be desirable. They had just reached the 
Temple Gardens. 

“Let’s turn in here and sit down for a little,” 
continued Tuppy, “we’ve got a good hour to 
spare.” 

“But can we get in?” 


DR. TUPPY 85 

“Oh, yes; the top gate at the corner is always 
open. I’ll take care of you. Don’t be afraid.” 

They turned into the Gardens and strolled across 
the lawn to a seat. 

“How deliciously fresh and green the grass is, 
but there don’t seem to be many flowers, do 
there?” 

“I don’t suppose the Benchers care much for 
flowers. Fossils are more in their line.” 

“Are they old?” she asked. 

“Nearly as old, I believe, as the sun-dial over 
there. That’s dated 1707.” 

“It must be a beautifully quiet place to live in.” 

“Well, not as quiet as it looks,” he replied, “but 
I suppose it all depends on your luck. If you’re 
over a piano, you may be tortured from six to 
eleven p.m. If you’re next a Member of Parlia- 
ment, you’ll be disturbed at any hour of the night 
by the hoot of his returning motor or taxi. About 
four a.m. at this time of year, the gas-man pounds 
up the stairs like a steam hammer and clatters 
down again like a ton of bricks. At six, the refuse 
collector gaily trundles over the pavement with 
his rumbling wheelbarrow. At seven, the bustling 
rattle of the merry milk-can fills the air with joyous 
life; at eight, the postman’s double knock echoes 
and re-echoes up the sounding stairs, and when the 
business of the day opens and the office doors be- 
gin to bang, then, compared with the Temple, the 
roar of the battlefield is a lullaby of peace.” 

“You’ve stayed here?” she asked, laughing at 
his hyperbole. 


86 


DR. TUPPY 


“Once,” he replied. “A whole week. Hence 
this lock of grey hair.” 

They sat for a minute in silence, listening to the 
strains of music that floated over the river from 
a passing steamer. 

“Tell me,” she said suddenly, “why didn't you 
take up the piano professionally?” 

“Well, my Aunt, Lady Milner, didn’t like the 
idea, and my father wouldn’t hear of it.” 

“But why not? Why can’t a boy be allowed to 
follow his own bent? He has to live his own life, 
not the life of his parents.” 

Tuppy’s smile assumed a touch of bitterness. 

“Ah, why not?” he answered, petulantly digging 
his stick in the grass. “My passion for Music was 
regarded as harmless as long as it was confined to 
my playing the organ in church, and did not in- 
terfere with the study of such delectable works 
as Butler’s Analogy or Oxenham’s Everlasting 
Punishment . On my twenty-first birthday I dined 
at the Rectory. After dinner the Dad sent for me 
in his study, and having gilded the ordinary dis- 
course on the religious aspects of one’s nativity 
with the customary five-pound note, abruptly said, 
‘Well, Charles, which of the three is it to be?’ 
‘Which of what three is it to be, sir?’ I asked in 
bewilderment. ‘Which profession, of course,’ was 
the reply, ‘a gentleman can only be one of three 
things — a Barrister, a Physician, or a clergyman of 
the Church of England.’ I ventured to stammer 
out something about Music. ‘What! what! what!’ 


DR. TUPPY 


87 


said my father. ‘Music! The boy's mad — do you 
wish to become the proprietor of a piano-organ or 
to play a cornet in the orchestra of a theatre?' I 
was given three days to decide — three days of tor- 
ture they were to me. I had not enough faith to 
become a clergyman, otherwise perhaps the preach- 
ing might have stirred my dramatic sense, and re- 
hearsing the choir might have satisfied my love 
of Music ” 

“More than satisfied it," murmured Nurse Jes- 
sop, “would have killed it outright." 

“I had no fancy for the Law, and so, by a 
process of exclusion, I found myself in three days 
chucked into Medicine!" 

“But you like the profession, Mr. Tuppy? 
You're always so keen at your work?" 

“Like it! I hate it, loathe it, detest it. Other- 
wise I should have been qualified by now. Pm 
stupid, of course, but not so stupid as that. 
Imagine what six years' study of Medicine has 
meant to a man of my temperament, a man who 
turns sick in the presence of suffering and who 
used to pale at the sight of a corpse. When I first 
went to the Hospital, the same nightmare haunted 
me for weeks. I used to dream that the body I 
was working on in the daytime was holding me at 
night in its half-dissected arms and pressing against 
me with its shrivelled lips. If I had not been as 
obstinate as a mule I should have given it all up. 
And people imagine that because Nature blessed, 
or cursed me, whichever you will, with an eternal 


88 


DR. TUPPY 


smile, that I am eternally happy. My God, if they 
knew how I suffer at times.” 

“Oh, Mr. Tuppy, I am so sorry. Why not give 
it all up and go on with the music?” 

“It’s too late now, Nurse; besides we must think 
of those who care for us. Lady Milner is very fond 
of me, and I of her. Years ago it might have been 
different — but — but ” 

“But what, Mr. Tuppy?” 

“Oh, you must know — you must see,” he an- 
swered, with a catch in his voice, “I am not as 
other men. I wasn’t made for the battle of life. 
I came into the world ‘scarce half made up.’ De- 
fective, weak, astigmatic in body and mind ” 

Nurse Jessop dared not trust herself to speak. 
Was it a mist rising from the river that seemed to 
make her companion’s form so blurred? Oh, if 
she could only comfort him, if she could only tell 
him all that was surging in her heart. 

The silence was broken by the striking of the 
Temple clock. 

“That’s half-past four,” exclaimed Tuppy rising 
abruptly, “and I’ve got an appointment to keep.” 

“Mr. Tuppy, Mr. Tuppy,” she exclaimed, put- 
ting her hand on his sleeve, “don’t think these 
things of yourself. You’re wrong, believe me. 
Think of yourself as strong and beautiful, for 
beauty dwells with kindness, and honour is 
strength.” 

“But what are these without Love?” he asked, 
“and how can I hope for Love?” 


DR. TUPPY 89 

“Oh, Love must come to you, Mr. Tuppy. Only 
be patient.” 

He looked at her intently for a moment. 
“P-p-perhaps it will,” he stammered, “perhaps it 


CHAPTER VI 


A CADMEAN VICTORY 

“Tjy IGHT to one in half-crowns," said the Golly- 

i wog, ‘"that he doesn't turn up.'' 

“I take you," replied Dick Baxter. 

“I mean," continued the Gollywog trying to 
hedge, “that he won’t be here by five o’clock." 

“I take you on that, too." 

“I’ll come in on that lot," Mason chimed in. 

“No, my book’s closed, you should have spoken 
before." 

The place where this illegal contract was made 
and accepted happened to be the Hospital Gym- 
nasium, and its unconscious subject none other 
than Mr. Charles Theophilus Tuppy. And how 
was it that Mr. Tuppy, who took no interest what- 
soever in Sport and Athletics, and who had never 
been in The Gymnasium in the whole course of his 
Hospital career, should be so surely expected to 
arrive there precisely at five o’clock on a particular 
day? The explanation is simple. Mr. Tuppy, as 
has been related above, in a moment of justifiable 
irritation had threatened to punch the head of his 
colleague Mr. Oscar Smith, familiarly known as 
90 


DR. TUPPY 


9i 


the Gollywog, and that gentleman had conveyed 
to Tuppy, through the medium of his friend Mr. 
James Mason, that he must either apologize for his 
impertinence or be prepared to receive the chastise- 
ment he had threatened to inflict on another. 

“Look here, ,, Jumping Jimmy had said to 
Tuppy, “you must see for yourself that a fellow 
can’t submit to this sort of thing. The Gollywog 
doesn’t want to be hard on you. He wouldn’t like 
to soil his fists by striking your ugly face without 
the gloves, but if you’re a man of honour, it must 
be clear to you that you must either apologize or 
make your words good.” 

If Tuppy had been less a man of honour and 
more a man of sense, he would probably have 
treated Mr. Oscar Smith’s communication with 
contempt and reminded him of the fact that in 
the event of any breach of the peace, the aggressor 
must be prepared to pay those penalties exacted 
by Law for the common good of the community. 
But, on one side of his family, Tuppy came of 
martial stock, and his moral intuitions belonged to 
a period when it was a point of honour to seek and 
find satisfaction in being shot at with a pistol or 
run through with a sword. He accepted Mr. Oscar 
Smith’s message as his forefathers would have ac- 
cepted a challenge to a duel. There could be but 
one reply. But he made a stipulation. That the 
meeting should not take place before the Thursday 
week. He would run no risks of being unpresent- 
able on the occasion of Nurse Jessop’s lunch at the 
Rectory. He almost regretted that duelling was 


92 


DR. TUPPY 


no longer the vogue. He hated physical violence 
and it tried his courage as much to go and be 
pommelled as it would to be shot at, and his 
aesthetic sense more to have to pommel back than 
to fire his pistol into the air. Of the art of Boxing 
he knew absolutely nothing, and of the procedure 
to be followed in such a challenge as this he was 
equally ignorant. He put the matter before his 
friend. 

Baxter, sympathetic as ever, said he was 
surprised and shocked and grieved. After all, 
wouldn’t it be the best way out of the difficulty if 
Tuppy were to apologize? Tuppy replied that 
he’d be . . . that he’d rather die first. Well, in 
that case, all that Baxter could suggest was that 
he should become Tuppy’s agent in the matter and 
make the necessary arrangements with the Golly- 
wog’s representative, Mr. James Mason. He 
thought that three rounds of two minutes each 
ought to satisfy the exigencies of the case. Of 
course a nice clean “upper cut” might give Tuppy 
the “knock out” in the first round, and there would 
be an end of the matter. Tuppy, thereupon, ex- 
pressed some curiosity as to the nature of an 
“upper cut,” and further suggested, if the door of 
the gymnasium was kept shut, that he couldn’t 
very well be knocked out, unless he was knocked 
out through the keyhole. This interpretation of 
a “knock out” appeared to cause Mr. Baxter in- 
finite amusement. In regard to an “upper cut,” 
he suggested that his friend should have a bout 
with him every day until the contest came off. He 


DR. TUPPY 


93 


would hit so gently that it wouldn't hurt a fly. 
Tuppy was deeply grateful but, remembering the 
lunch at the Rectory, decided that he was content 
to wait for an illustration of an “upper cut" from 
the Gollywog himself. If he had to be pommelled 
he had better be pommelled once and have done 
with it. He confessed to some misgiving as to 
whether any one had such absolute control over 
the neuro-muscular system as to be able to adjust 
his movements to the perfect comfort of a fly. 
Thereupon Baxter laughed again, and remarked 
that Tuppy wasn't such a fool as he looked. At 
which handsome praise Tuppy blushed and stam- 
mered his thanks, saying that Baxter always held 
too high an opinion of him. Then they shook 
hands and parted. 

Had it not been for this conversation it is pos- 
sible that such a cautious man as Mr. Dick Baxter 
wouldn't have risked even so small a sum as half- 
a-crown on the subject of Tuppy's appearance. 

“My man will turn up all right," he said hoisting 
himself on to the horizontal bar, “you'll find you 
haven't got into your flannels for nothing." 

“Well, we shall soon see," was the rejoinder, 
“it's seven minutes to five now. Would you like 
to cry off?" 

“Oh no, thank you. I'd rather make it in quids." 

But that didn't suit the Gollywog. 

“I tell you what I'll do," he said, “if the bantam 
turns up. I'll bet you a quid I knock him out in 
the first round." 

“What odds?" 


94 


DR. TUPPY 


“Even chances.” 

“No, thank you, my lad. Why you ought to 
knock him out. Look at those nice little gloves 
Pve brought you. Aren’t they daisies? Barely 
six ounces. They’ll punish almost as much as your 
naked knuckles. Have a round with me?” 

“With those gloves? Thank you, no. Besides, 
I want to keep fresh.” 

“Three minutes to five, gentlemen,” interrupted 
Jumping Jimmy. 

“Keep fresh?” continued Baxter. “Why, man, 
you’re going to fight a ninepin. It’s a mere game 
of skittles, of battledore and shuttlecock. You 
could blow him over with your breath. He has as 
much chance as a rat with a dog, a mouse with a 
cat, a rabbit with a stoat.” 

“Then let him apologize,” returned the Golly- 
wog sulkily. “Do you know, I think we’d better 
lock the door at five o’clock. The Gym is not sup- 
posed to be opened this afternoon, but some of 
the chaps might come in by chance. We don’t 
want an audience.” 

“Two minutes to five, gentlemen,” cried 
Jimmy Mason, “money must change hands di- 
rectly. You’d better get your stakes ready.” 

“There’s mine,” replied Baxter depositing half-a 
crown. 

“And mine,” said the Gollywog, putting down a 
sovereign. “I’d make it quids but I’m so jolly 
hard up. I don’t believe he’ll come.” 

“One minute to five, gentlemen.” 


DR. TUPPY 95 

“Is t-this the way to the g-g-gymnasium?” said 
a voice outside. 

‘That's right, sir. Straight through.” 

“There's my man,” exclaimed Baxter, “hand 
over your stakes.” 

Yes, it was Tuppy. Punctual to the moment, 
fresh and smiling as usual, arrayed in his spot- 
less luncheon garb: a frock coat, white waistcoat, 
and a flower in his buttonhole. A flower that was 
not there when he had left the Rectory. It was 
a pink Malmaison. 

“Thinks he's coming to a wedding,” muttered 
the Gollywog under his breath; “I'll give him a 
wedding present.” 

“G-g-good afternoon, gentlemen,” said Tuppy 
taking off his hat with punctilious politeness. “I 
t-t-trust I have not k-kept you waiting.” 

“He's in a b-b-blue f-f-funk,” whispered Jimmy 
Mason to his principal, “or he wouldn't st-stam- 
mer so.” 

There could be no denying that Tuppy was ner- 
vous, not, however, through fear of his opponent, 
but in the dread, through the novelty of the situ- 
ation, of unconsciously committing some horrible 
faux pas. 

“B-b-baxter, I'd like to sp-speak to you a 
moment,” he stuttered, taking his friend on one 
side. The Gollywog noticed the movement. 

“By Jove, he's going to climb down,” he 
chuckled; “I knew he'd never face the music.” 

But climbing down was the very last idea that 
would have entered Tuppy's mind. 


96 


DR. TUPPY 


“L-look here, dear old boy,” he continued when 
he and Baxter were out of earshot; “of course you 
will understand that I want to do everything in 
the most spirited, at the same time, in the most 
courteous and most correct manner. But I shall 
have to rely on you to help me, for I know noth- 
ing whatever about the rules of the game.” 

“Oh, it’s a very simple matter,” Baxter replied; 
“you’ve both got to pommel each other until one 
of you is so exhausted that he can’t get up from 
the ground whilst I count ten.” 

“Oh, is that it?” said Tuppy with an impersonal 
air. 

“Well, that constitutes a ‘knock out.’ Of 
course one of you may win on points, or there 
may be a draw.” 

Tuppy did not understand what to “win on 
points” might mean, nor did he think it worth 
while to inquire. His anxiety lay in another 
direction. 

“But supposing,” he said, “I unconsciously do 
anything which is technically wrong. It would 
be awful if my opponent could say afterwards ‘Oh, 
Tuppy didn’t play the game.’ ” 

“Oh, you can’t make any mistake. You mustn’t 
hit him when he’s down.” 

“Of course I shouldn’t do that,” interrupted 
Tuppy. 

“And you mustn’t hit him below the belt.” 

Tuppy looked anxious. 

“I don’t know what the physical result of hit- 
ting a man below the belt may be,” he replied 


DR. TUPPY 


97 


thoughtfully, “but I have noticed that in literature 
the method is used metaphorically to describe the 
basest and most cowardly form of attack. Now 
the terrible thing to me is that, in the heat of 
combat, it may not be easy always to locate the 
exact position of the belt, and that, therefore, at 
any moment one may unconsciously commit what, 
from a sportsman’s point of view, is regarded as 
a criminal act.” 

Baxter gave his companion a supercilious glance 
from under his half-closed lids. He always sus- 
pected Tuppy’s ingenuousness. In what direction 
did all this preliminary palaver tend? Was it the 
prelude to an apology? That would suit his book 
better than a fight. Of course it would be a 
pleasure to see Tuppy smashed, but it would be a 
greater pleasure to know that he was as pusillani- 
mous as he looked, and to be able to speak of him 
as a coward. Baxter came to a conclusion. 

“Look here,” he said, “wouldn’t the shortest 
way out of the difficulty be for you to apologize 
for your threat?” 

“Of course I will apologize,” said Tuppy readily, 
“if Oscar Smith will first apologize for being rude 
to Nurse Jessop. My position is perfectly clear. 
Withdraw the original offence, I withdraw my 
threat. Attack me, and I defend myself. Repeat 
the original offence, and I put my threat into 
execution.” 

Baxter held parley with the enemy. No, the 
Gollywog wouldn’t dream of apologizing. 

“Well, then, let’s start away,” said Tuppy. 


98 


DR. TUPPY 


“ You’ll get awfully knocked about,” Baxter in- 
sisted; “you may be half killed. You’d far better 
withdraw.” 

Tuppy looked at him with mild surprise. 

“When my grandfather was a lad of seventeen,” 
he answered, “he carried an ensign at Waterloo. 
You don’t suppose a Tuppy can be afraid. My 
only objection is that it’s all so b-beastly vulgar.” 

He took the pink Malmaison from his button- 
hole and carefully placed it on a chair, then walked 
towards the roped enclosure. 

“You’re not going to box in a frock-coat, are 
you?” Baxter shouted after him. 

“Just as you please,” Tuppy answered, stopping 
short; “I told you I knew nothing about it.” 

“Then let me show you, my lad.” Thereupon 
Baxter, with the air of an expert, began to strip 
Tuppy of his superfluous garments, as if undress- 
ing before a fight required a different method of 
procedure to that of undressing on any other 
occasion. 

Tuppy submitted with good grace to the re- 
moval of his coat, waistcoat, collar, tie and braces, 
but entered a firm protest against any further 
divestment as being undignified and unnecessary. 
Having been duly gloved, he was with great cere- 
mony conducted by his supporter to a chair in the 
corner of the ring. Why he should be requested to 
sit down and why, in view of the fact that he was 
perfectly cool, he should be violently fanned with 
a towel, he was at a loss to understand, but this, 
no doubt, was an accepted ritual of the gentle Art. 


DR. TUPPY 


99 


“Gentlemen,” shouted Baxter, addressing an 
imaginary audience, “On my right is Mr. Charles 
Theophilus Tuppy of Kensington; on my left, Mr. 
Oscar Smith of Birmingham. Now, gentlemen, 
‘time/ if you please!” 

Then Tuppy stepped forward, and put himself, 
after his lights, in an attitude of self-defence. From 
a professional point of view it was an attitude that 
was neither graceful nor correct, but owing to the 
peculiarities of Tuppy’s physique it proved to be 
highly effective. Nature had been unkind to him, 
and one of the characteristics which had suggested 
to his colleagues the soubriquet of “the missing 
link” was an inordinate and ungainly length of 
arm. To Mr. Oscar Smith these preternaturally 
long arms seemed to reach across the ring. One 
of them was for ever close under his nose. A 
straight blow was impossible. He danced round, 
and tried to land one of his favourite swings, but 
with surprising activity his opponent danced 
round, too. If he could only induce Tuppy to 
attack he knew he could find his opening, but 
Tuppy remained stolidly, though ever alertly, on 
the defensive. And so they moved round and round, 
first this way and then that, the fist of Tuppy’s 
extended arm being the centre of the circle. Alto- 
gether, as Baxter colloquially described it after- 
wards, it was really a rotten round, for when time 
was called, Smith hadn’t got fairly home with a 
single jab and was far more pumped than his op- 
ponent. Tuppy, indeed, was quite surprised to 
find himself pushed on to his chair, and his face 


IOO 


DR. TUPPY 


mopped, and a towel flapped over him as if he had 
undergone some extremely violent exertion. Per- 
sonally he felt as fresh as paint, the few taps he 
had received having acted as an exciting stimulant. 

Meanwhile Mr. Oscar Smith, extremely hot and 
breathless, was being formally attended to by his 
supporter. 

“You’ll never land him/’ whispered Jimmy 
Mason, “until you get him to open up.” 

“How can I get him to open up?” asked the 
Golly wog irritably; “you can take a horse to the 
water, but you can’t make him drink.” 

“No, but you can make him kick. Say some- 
thing rude about the girl.” 

“Time! gentlemen, time!” shouted Baxter. 

Tuppy once more assumed his attitude of self- 
defence. The Gollywog stood still and laughed 
at him. 

“I’m waiting for that punch on the head you 
promised me,” he jeered. 

“You’ll get it,” replied Tuppy confidently, 
“whenever you speak rudely of Nurse Jessop.” 

“Of Carrots — well, I think she’s a little ” 

The Gollywog hadn’t time to finish his sentence. 
Tuppy’s long arm shot out like lightning. Oscar 
Smith guarded with equal rapidity and before 
there was a chance of recovery landed his op- 
ponent a straight blow on the nose. Thereupon, 
as Baxter put it, the fun began. Tuppy was stag- 
gered for a moment and saw stars, through which 
he again rushed blindly in, only to receive a punch 
in the ribs that took away his breath. Then 


DR. TUPPY 


IOI 


could be heard a running pit-a-pat of blows as of 
a storm of hail pelting against a window. Tuppy 
became unconscious of his true environment. He 
thought he was drowning in an angry sea, his only 
chance of safety was to strike out for the shore, 
but he felt his arms growing weaker, the relent- 
less waves blinded him; yes, this was the end, he 
was going down, he was being choked — why did 
the brine of the water taste so much like blood? 
Suddenly there came a respite. He was touching 
something; was it the shore? It gave him support, 
he threw his arms round it. It seemed to be 
slipping from him. He clung to it the closer. 
Then he heard voices shouting through the storm 
— “Don’t clinch, sir, don’t clinch; make him break 
away.” He wondered what they meant and 
whence they came; could it be that he was cling- 
ing to another drowning man? A louder voice 
cried “Time! Time!” The thing he embraced, what- 
ever it might be, escaped from his grasp and again 
he was striking wildly for the shore. Then his 
full consciousness returned to him and he found 
himself sitting on his chair in the corner of the 
ring. 

“Good man, good man,” Baxter was saying, 
“another second and you’d have been knocked 
out. Here, rinse your mouth,” and he thrust a 
bottle between Tuppy’s lips. 

“Was that a round?” asked Tuppy. 

“Yes, my boy, and a jolly good round, too. I 
guess you’ve had enough of it.” 

“Have I punched his head?” demanded Tuppy. 


102 


DR. TUPPY 


“Well, you nearly did, after I called ‘time/ but 
that’s not in the rules of the game.” 

“Then I must have another try.” 

“Time’s up,” shouted Jimmy Mason; “is your 
man ready or does he withdraw ?” 

“I’m ready,” answered Tuppy, and refusing 
Baxter’s assistance he struggled to his feet. He 
realized why he had succeeded in his first round 
and failed in the second. Now, with his long arms, 
he would keep his opponent at a distance and 
watch his chance. It came almost with the 
thought. Oscar Smith, inflated with success and 
certain of the issue, made no attempt to guard, 
and Tuppy suddenly crashed in with a straight 
blow on the eye of his opponent. To Tuppy that 
was the end of the fight, the last thing he remem- 
bered of it, for the next moment Oscar Smith, 
smarting with pain and furious at being reached, 
knocked him senseless to the floor. 

Baxter counted ten. The outstretched figure 
did not move. The men exchanged anxious 
glances. The same thought was in their minds. 
They did not dare to give it expression. Baxter 
was the first to speak. 

“Come, Tuppy,” he said, gently shaking the 
prostrate form by the shoulder, “you’re all right, 
you know. You’d better get up.” 

But Tuppy did not get up. He lay as cold and 
motionless as an effigy in stone. For once his 
features could be seen at perfect rest, the living 
smile had gone, and in its stead remained the 
placid sweetness of a dead repose. Baxter knelt 


DR. TUPPY 


103 


by the side of the unconscious man and placed his 
finger an the limp and powerless wrist. Then he 
looked grave, and bending down pressed his ear 
over the region of the heart. Oscar Smith noticed 
the action and flung up his arms in despair. 

“My God,” he sobbed, “I've killed him. I’ve 
killed him.” 

Baxter turned to him impatiently. 

“Don't be a fool,” he said, “he's not dead yet. 
If you haven't fractured the base of his skull he'll 
get all right. He's badly concussed. Let's get 
him in a better light and have a look at his eyes.” 

Baxter had as little professional knowledge as 
is possible to a qualified man, but he was not quite 
as ignorant as his comrades. If Tuppy was not 
adequately treated he realized that he would be 
held responsible, but at all risks he did not want 
to send for assistance. Besides, there was really 
nothing to be done — but wait. 

“Here, you chaps bring that mattress along, and 
help me to carry him over there to the window.” 

The two students did as they were bid; their 
nerves were shaken with fear; they were only too 
glad to have some one on whom they could rely, 
and who was more self-possessed than themselves, 

In the light, Tuppy looked even more ghastly 
than before. The colourless and slightly parted 
lips, the ashen clammy skin, the shrunken counte- 
nance, the cold sweat gathering on the brow ap- 
peared to be the certain harbingers of death. 

Oscar Smith again wrung his hands in despair 


104 


DR. TUPPY 


and strode up and down the long floor of the 
Gymnasium. 

“I’ve killed him,” he groaned, “I’ve killed him. 
My God, I swear I’ll never box again.” 

“Oh, shut up, for heaven’s sake,” shouted Bax- 
ter, “you get on my nerves. I tell you he’ll pull 
round. His pupils are equal and re-act to light. 
At present there’s no sign of anything beyond 
concussion. If he’s fractured his base we shall 
soon know it. Here, run and fetch some blankets 
and hot bottles. No, you go, Jimmy. The Golly- 
wog mustn’t be seen about the Square with an 
eye like that.” 

Thereupon Mr. Oscar Smith, in spite of his 
misery, was prompted to look in the broken bit 
of looking-glass which was the last representative 
of the Gymnasium mirror, and was surprised to 
observe with one eye, that it was obviously im- 
possible for him to see out of the other. 

“By Jove, Baxter, what am I to do for this 
awful eye?” 

“Oh, hang your eye, it will be well enough in 
time for the inquest.” 

This sympathetic rejoinder brought back to the 
Gollywog’s mind his greater trouble. He paced 
the Gymnasium like a scared animal, pausing every 
now and then to throw an anxious glance towards 
his comrades as they sat and watched his uncon- 
scious opponent. When would they know the 
worst? What did Baxter mean by “soon”? 
Surely the clock had stopped. Its two hands lay 
exactly one over the other between the hours of 


DR. TUPPY 


105 


five and six. It must be an hour since — since 
the accident had happened. He counted sixty, 
counted it twice because he had gone so fast, and 
then looked again. The clock was right enough, 
the minute-hand had moved. It seemed incredible 
that time could creep so slowly. Was it all a 
nightmare? He struck the wall a blow with his 
naked fist. Had he been asleep the pain would 
have wakened him. What should he do if Tuppy 
died? His mind leapt towards suicide. Half-past 
five at last! If no respite came to this anxiety, 
and soon, he felt he should go mad. 

“Golly wog!” 

He turned. Baxter was beckoning to him. His 
heart stood still. This must be the end. No; both 
Baxter and Mason were smiling. He ran towards 
them. 

“He’s all right, Gollywog, he’s coming round.” 

Yes, Tuppy was coming round. The warmth 
had done its work, the shock had passed, he was 
breathing naturally, his colour had returned. A 
great sob of joy rose in Oscar Smith’s throat, and 
he fell on his knees at Tuppy’s side. 

So when Tuppy opened his eyes, he looked 
straight up into the Gollywog’s face. He was 
puzzled. He knew he had finished the fight and 
won. He had punched his opponent’s head. Judg- 
ing from the Gollywog’s appearance he feared he 
had punched it too hard. But why was he on his 
back? For the life of him he could not remember 
lying down. It was very strange. 


io6 


DR. TUPPY 


“Well, Til get up now,” he said, suddenly raising 
himself on his elbow. 

“No, no,” said Baxter, “keep still for another 
quarter of an hour, there's a good chap." 

Tuppy wondered why, but did not feel inclined 
to argue the matter. Perhaps this was all part of 
the ritual of the Ring. He leaned back again and 
closed his eyes. He wished he could remember 
lying down. There was something else he tried 
to recall. Something he wanted, something he 
would like to touch, and hold, and cherish. What 
on earth could it be? 

“Do you think he'll be all right now?" whis- 
pered the Gollywog as the City clocks were 
striking six. Baxter nodded his head. 

“Will he be able to go home?" 

“He doesn't live at home. I'll take him back to 
Kensington in a cab." 

“Why doesn't he open his eyes?" 

“Perhaps Tuppy's tired and wants to sleep," 
answered Baxter in his natural voice. 

But Tuppy was wide awake. 

“I'm all right, you chaps," he said, opening his 
eyes again and sitting bolt upright; “and it's time 
that I went home. But there's something I want," 
he looked round vaguely, “and for the life of me 
I can't remember what it is." 

The men exchanged glances. Had the concus- 
sion affected Tuppy's mind? 

“I'm all right," he repeated, when they helped 
him to rise, but as he spoke the floor swayed under 
him and he clutched at Baxter for support. Then 


DR. TUPPY 107 

they set to work to dress him, Tuppy accepting 
their services like a child. 

“Now you look splendid,” Baxter said encourag- 
ingly, passing him his hat and gloves, “just as if 
you were going to a wedding.” The word acted 
as a spark to a train of thought in Tuppy’s mind. 

“I know what I want,” he exclaimed; “my 
flower,” and as he gently arranged the pink Mal- 
maison in the lapel of his coat his face lightened 
at last with a typical Tuppy smile. Then he turned 
to Oscar Smith and put out his hand. 

“Pm s-sorry I hurt you, G-g-gollywog,” he 
stammered, “I apologize. I don’t want to hurt 
any one, but if ever you’re rude to Nurse Jessop, 
I shall give you the same again.” And leaning 
heavily on Baxter’s proffered arm, he walked 
slowly out of the Gymnasium. 


CHAPTER VII 


l/idee fixe 

H E was dreaming that his face was surrounded 
by butterflies which would not be driven 
away. And then he awoke to the fact that Mona 
was licking his cheek. On his first birthday after 
coming to live with Aunt Eleanor, when he was 
just twelve years of age, the old lady had asked 
him what he would like for a present, and Tuppy 
without hesitation had answered “a dog.” And 
then to his delight he had been driven to the Home 
for Lost Dogs at Battersea and had been told that 
he might pick and choose. Tuppy promptly 
decided that he wanted the lot, but, this being 
impossible, he selected a hybrid retriever, a dachs- 
hund, three black and tan terriers, and, out of pure 
sympathy, a mongrel pup that showed signs of 
the mange. But the house at Kensington Gore 
was of limited area, and Lady Milner suggested 
that, for the present at least, one dog was enough. 
The lad’s choice had finally fallen on a Skye terrier 
with a grave little face, whose bright eyes peeped 
out through her shaggy locks with a look of pre- 
ternatural intelligence. He had christened her 
Mona, and for fifteen years she had slept at his 
108 


DR. TUPPY 109 

feet and proved! herself a devoted companion and 
friend. 

“You think it’s time your Daddy got up, old 
girl, don’t you?” Mona gave an affirmative wag, 
then looked at the door and growled. 

“Oh that’s it, is it, there’s some one outside, 
eh? Come in.” 

“Her ladyship’s compliments, Mr. Charles,” said 
Mortimer, “and she would like to know how you 
feel this morning.” The old family butler stood 
at the foot of Tuppy’s bed and delivered the mes- 
sage in a tone which expressed a really sympathetic 
interest in the answer. Every one in the little 
house in Kensington Gore loved Mr. Charles. 

Tuppy replied that, with the exception of a 
little stiffness, he felt perfectly well, and that if 
he had not promised his aunt to stay in bed until 
she had paid him a visit, he should get up at once. 

“Don’t you do nothing of the kind, Mr. Charles; 
Mr. Baxter told her ladyship you’d had a nasty 
fall and that you ought to keep quiet for a whole 
day at least.” 

Tuppy wondered when he was left to himself 
what it exactly was that Baxter had told his aunt, 
and still more what he was to tell her himself. Of 
course he would like to tell her the truth, but the 
whole truth might worry her, and might put Bax- 
ter in the position of not having been perfectly 
frank. After all, he might have had a fall although 
he didn’t remember it. He had found himself lying 
on a mattress, but had not the slightest knowledge 
as to how he got there. He felt perfectly well 


no 


DR. TUPPY 


now, and it seemed absurd to stay away from the 
Hospital. It was a whole day wasted. A whole 
day without any practical work, a whole day with- 
out dressing his cases, a whole day without being 
thrilled with the sound of a certain voice and with- 
out watching the sunbeams entangle themselves 
in a certain cluster of golden hair. He reached out 
his hand for the framed photograph standing on 
the table by his side, gazed at it fondly for a mo- 
ment, and then with a sigh restored it to its place 
beside the pink Malmaison. Would she miss him? 
Would Sallypally ask where “Dr. Tupny” was? 
Would Sister Mary be conscious of his absence? 
How strangely his life had become centred in Mary 
Ward! How essential to his daily existence seemed 
the surreptitious feasts in the Ward Kitchen, when, 
after the day’s work, armed with a cup of tea in 
one hand and a round of buttered toast — such 
buttered toast — in the other, he would engage in 
the easy and pleasing occupation of making the 
nurses laugh. And sometimes Sister Mary herself 
would invite him to tea in her sanctum. Such a 
charming room it was, with its old oak furniture, 
and the grandfather clock dated 1705. As for the 
Little Sister herself, he worshipped the ground on 
which she walked; she had been so kind to him, 
and mothered him, and had made him promise 
that whenever he needed advice he would appeal 
to her. This was a privilege he valued highly, for 
with Sister Mary’s natural sweetness were blended 
the delicate refinement and savoir faire that come 
of gentle blood. When he recalled the first day on 


DR. TUPPY 


hi 


which he had met her — what centuries ago it 
seemed — how, in his ignorant simplicity, he had 
tendered her a florin, his cheeks grew hot with 
shame. 

“May I come in, Charlie, dear?” 

“Yes, Aunt Eleanor.” And, round the door, 
with the light and active step of one who had 
danced in her youth and who would like to dance 
again, appeared the figure of a little old lady, as 
pretty, and delicate, and dainty as a beautiful piece 
of Dresden china. 

“Here’s Mortimer with your breakfast, dear, and 
I’m going to talk to you whilst you eat it.” She 
took a chair by the bedside and gazed at her 
nephew with a loving and proprietary smile. 

“I hope you have good news, Aunt Eleanor.” 
Tuppy glanced at the bundle of letters and news- 
paper cuttings which the old lady had placed on 
the table near. She clapped her hands together 
delightedly, and laughed like a child. Then sud- 
denly her face fell. She drew forth a letter from 
her bundle and held it dramatically at arm’s length. 

“Coward,” she exclaimed, with a cutting em- 
phasis of tragic scorn, “he refuses to come out” 
To a stranger, this somewhat enigmatical remark 
might have suggested that the proscribed letter 
was a refusal of a challenge to a duel, but to Tuppy 
its true significance was at once revealed. Lady 
Milner’s whole life was devoted to what she always 
spoke of as “The Cause,” which, being interpreted, 
meant the total prohibition of experiments on 
living animals for scientific purposes. Her whole 


1 12 


DR. TUPPY 


estimate of character was based on a person’s atti- 
tude towards this, to her, all important subject. 
She would willingly have invited a burglar to tea 
if she could have persuaded him to sign one of 
her innumerable petitions, and indeed she had been 
heard to defend a well-known member of Society 
(who, owing to an unfortunate predilection for 
copying other people’s signatures, had found him- 
self inside one of His Majesty’s Prisons) with the 
remark, “Oh, but he was very good for the ani- 
mals.” “Good for” and not “to” was the way 
Lady Milner always expressed it. If a man was 
“good for the animals” she cared not what might 
be his domestic relations, his politics, or his reli- 
gion. And the man she most despised, after the 
vivisector himself, was he who in his heart was op- 
posed to vivisection, and yet had not the courage 
to say so, the man, to quote her own way of put- 
ting it, who refused to “come out.” 

“Who is he?” asked Tuppy, sympathetically. 

“A parson, of course,” answered the old lady, 
her lip curling with sovereign contempt, “ mais , que 
vonlez-vous ?” 

“What is his reason?” 

“He is afraid of offending the Bishop, who be- 
longs to the Research Defence Society. The more 
shame to the Bishop. A reverend and holy man 
who preaches a religion of self-sacrifice, whose 
thoughts are supposed to be set on things above, 
but who would countenance the torture of defence- 
less animals to prolong for a single hour his 
cowardly existence below. On which side does his 


DR. TUPPY 


ii3 

lordship imagine Christ would have been? For or 
against vivisection? Christ who gave Himself to 
be crucified to save others — would He not have 
cried “Shame” on those who crucify others to save 
themselves? Vicarious suffering is a glory to him 
who takes it on himself, a crime to him who forces 
it upon another.” 

Tuppy listened to his aunt’s denunciation in dis- 
creet silence. First of all, he was very pleasantly 
occupied in the consumption of eggs and bacon, 
and, secondly, he thought it far better for the old 
lady to relieve herself of her righteous indignation. 
With her opinions he was familiar, he had heard 
them all before, but Lady Milner’s dramatic 
delivery and expressive foreign gestures ever re- 
mained to him a constant joy. The first twenty 
years of her life had been passed in Paris, and the 
influence of a French environment on an emotional 
temperament, at a plastic and impressionable age, 
had been deep and lasting. It showed itself in her 
speech, her abandon , her unfailing vivacity. 

“Perhaps, his lordship,” continued Lady Milner 
with vehemence, “can imagine Christ fastening the 
thongs of the victims, fixing the gag, passing the 
operator his scalpel. I picture Him, the Christ 
that went into the Temple and cast out those that 
bought and sold, I picture Him as going into 
the laboratories, overthrowing with scorn the 
tables of the vivisectors and casting out the pro- 
fessors from their seats. But I haven’t the patience 
to speak of it. We’ll change the subject.” 

Tuppy was glad, although he feared the respite 


DR. TUPPY 


114 

would be brief. He had learnt from experience, 
that, with his aunt, all topics led in one direction, 
and that whether she deliberately faced south, east, 
or west she would, like the deflected needle of 
a compass, unconsciously and invariably turn 
again towards her magnetic pole — the subject of 
Humanitarianism. 

“Where did you get that lovely Malmaison, 
Charlie?” Tuppy turned as pink as the Malmaison 
itself. The other subject was monotonous, but 
this was personally embarrassing. 

“And what a chic little frame!” Lady Milner 
picked it up and examined it. Then she restored 
it hastily to its place, making a little moue. 

“Oh, Charlie, it’s a nurse.” 

The pink carnation looked pale with such a 
peony as Tuppy blushing at its side. Lady Milner, 
as Tuppy knew too well, had an antipathy to the 
modern nurse. It was only this fact indeed that 
had hitherto prevented him dilating to his aunt 
on Bella Jessop’s charms. But now the hour had 
come. 

“It’s a friend of mine. Nurse Jessop. She’s 
kind. You’d like her,” was Tuppy’s brief state- 
ment. 

Lady Milner did not appear convinced. 

“Is she on our side?” she asked. 

“She’s on the side of all that is good, and just, 
and kind, and generous.” 

“Then she is on our side.” 

“I have never discussed the subject with her,” 
Tuppy replied, “but I am sure that with your 


DR. TUPPY 


ii5 

premises she would draw the same conclusions/’ 
The old lady put the final test. 

“ Would she come out?” she demanded. 

“Whatever her convictions were I am sure she 
would avow them.” 

Tuppy went on with his breakfast, as an indica- 
tion that he considered his cross-examination at an 
end; and, indeed, Lady Milner’s active mind was 
already on the track of a new proselyte. 

“Is Mr. Baxter on our side?” she asked sud- 
denly. 

Tuppy’s mouth was full and he paused before 
replying. 

“I think he must be,” she continued; “he seemed 
so distressed that you had slipped on that piece of 
banana skin and injured your head. He said vio- 
lence of any sort upset him, and that personally 
he couldn’t hurt a fly.” 

Tuppy felt sure that Baxter was incapable of 
willingly injuring any creature in the world. 

“I wonder if he would come out.” 

Tuppy felt uncertain as to whether his friend 
would “come out.” They had avoided the subject 
by mutual consent. 

“Of course I know,” Lady Milner went on, “that 
you can’t go preaching these things at the Hos- 
pital. I’m not unreasonable. All I expect is, that 
whenever the question is mooted, you should 
boldly hoist your colours and stick to them.” 

“Rather,” answered Tuppy succinctly, “but, 
either at the Hospital or elsewhere, my position 
is much more difficult to defend than yours.” 


n6 


DR. TUPPY 


“Why, Charlie?” 

“There’s the reason.” Tuppy held up a nice 
crisp piece of bacon on the end of his fork. “You 
are a vegetarian; I am not. I tried to be, as you 
know, and with pretty disastrous results. You can 
talk about the Tights of animals,’ I can’t. To do 
so, whilst I am trifling with a chicken’s leg or toy- 
ing with a piece of ham, is inconsistent, to say the 
least of it. As a scientist remarked in the trial 
about a famous brown dog, 'if we sacrifice animals 
for food, why not for education?’ ” 

“But we don’t eat dogs, Charlie.” 

“Ah, you have me there, Aunt Eleanor, and the 
Scientist, too.” The old lady clapped her hands 
with delight. 

“And killing is not the same as torturing,” she 
continued. 

“I think the Scientist would have us both on 
that point, Aunt Eleanor. He would say, 'My 
dear madam, your nephew had rabbit pie for lunch 
yesterday. The rabbit was very likely caught in 
a snare, and may have suffered hours of exquisite 
torture before it was found and killed. Your 
servants had steak for their supper last night. The 
animal that supplied the steak was probably 
shipped across the Atlantic, and endured the tor- 
ments of ten days’ sea-sickness before it was 
slaughtered. Now, we give our subjects anaes- 
thetics and put them into a beautiful sleep.’ ” 

“Anaesthetics!” exclaimed the old lady. “Fid- 
dlesticks! I’ve been put into a 'beautiful sleep’ 
myself, and I felt the man cutting away at me most 


DR. TUPPY 


ii 7 

of the time and had a hideous nightmare during 
the rest. Common-sense tells one that an animal 
has much less chance than a Human. The object 
of an experimenter is the success of the experi- 
ment, not the comfort of his unfortunate subject. 
Were it not for anaesthetics we could get the public 
on our side in a day.” 

Tuppy, feeling it difficult to meet a special plead- 
ing that contained at least an element of truth, 
returned to his original proposition. 

“In my case, dear Aunt Eleanor, those amiable 
but illogical people — I am one of them myself — 
who advocate the abolition of painful experiments 
on animals and yet live on animal food are in a 
very anomalous position. They have abandoned 
their chief line of defence — namely Animals' 
Rights.” 

‘The conclusion of which is — not that they 
should support vivisection — but that they should 
become vegetarians.” 

“Quite so, my dear aunt. I mean to have an- 
other shot at it myself, but crispy bacon is very 
fascinating.” 

“Oh, Charlie, I do wish you'd speak about the 
matter seriously. It's all so horrible to me.” 

“And so it is to me, dearest,” he replied, caress- 
ingly laying his hand on hers, “and the most 
horrible thing of all is that Nature herself seems 
cruel. The bird feeds on the worm, the cat plays 
with the mouse, the spider traps the fly. It is the 
instinct of self-preservation.” 

“But we should rise to better things, my dear 


n8 


DR. TUPPY 


Charlie. My husband did not think of self-preser- 
vation when he won the Victoria Cross/’ 

“Sir George Milner was a hero,” Tuppy an- 
swered simply. “I was not built on heroic lines; 
I wish I had been.” 

There was silence for a moment. The old lady’s 
thoughts reverted to a morning some thirty years 
ago, when a telegram from India had brought her 
the news that her husband had fallen a martyr to 
his own heroism and self-sacrifice. With all her 
love for him she did not wish the deed undone. 
Since then she had lived only for the animals whose 
cause she had espoused — and for her nephew, to 
whom she gave the devotion of a warm and sym- 
pathetic heart. 

“Mrs. Harper has sent the Society twenty 
pounds for the Cause,” she continued, turning over 
her letters. “I am glad of that.” 

But Tuppy made no response. He was pre- 
occupied in the contemplation of a mental vision 
of the Gollywog’s black eye. He wished he had 
not hit it quite so hard. And yet it seemed better 
to have hit it too hard than not to have hit it at 
all. Then he realized that his Aunt had read some- 
thing to him of which he hadn’t heard a word. 

“Now isn’t that abominable, Charlie?” 

“Yes,” replied Tuppy with a broad grin which 
he intended as a Machiavellian smile. Lady Mil- 
ner looked at him. 

“Why Charlie, you weren’t attending. You 
couldn’t deceive a dormouse. I’ll read it again. 
It’s from a letter in the St James' Gazette. I really 


DR. TUPPY 


119 

must answer it. ‘Animals must give way to man/ 
says the writer. ‘By all means, regrettable as it 
may be, let the animal suffer rather than the man/ 
And listen to this. ‘No one loves his dog more 
than I, but I love my fellow-man better/ I call 
that monstrous. As if dogs hadn’t enough troubles 
to bear on their own account without being sad- 
dled with ours. Why poor Towser has fits, Roy 
has spasms, and Sambo has ” 

“Fleas!” 

“Oh, Charlie dear. It’s eczema, it is indeed; 
but fleas or eczema, I must answer this letter.” 

“Aunt Eleanor,” said Tuppy in an undertone, 
“look at Mona pretending to be asleep because 
you referred to Towser, Sambo and Roy. Isn’t 
she funny? I saw her deliberately close her eyes 
directly you mentioned their names.” 

“She naturally regards them as interlopers and 
despises their youth and frivolity; but to return to 
the subject. I must answer this letter. You might 
help me, Charlie. You’re so clever.” 

“Clever, Aunt Eleanor! Why, I’m the greatest 
donkey in the Hospital. I am, indeed. Ask any 
of the fellows. Baxter’s the only person — I mean 
the only man — who doesn’t think I’m a fool.” 

“I know differently,” insisted the old lady, 
thrusting the newspaper into her nephew’s hands. 
“Now tell me what I am to say.” 

Tuppy read the letter in silence. 

“Jolly specious,” was his pithy comment. 

“Yes, dear, but I can’t say that to the Editor. 
‘Sir, your correspondent’s letter in yesterday’s 


120 


DR. TUPPY 


issue appears to me to be jolly specious/ That’s 
too colloquial. It lacks style and rhythm. Now 
do help me, there’s a good boy.” 

Tuppy finished his coffee with the air of one 
about to do a desperate deed. 

“Have you got a pencil?” 

“I have my stylo.” The old lady drew her chair 
to the table with the delight of a child. “ 'Dogs 
and Vivisection’ is the head-line, Charlie. I’ve got 
that. Now, go ahead.” 

So Tuppy went ahead and dictated with fluent 
rapidity, whilst the old lady expressed her ap- 
proval with occasional chuckles of glee. 

“I’m ever so much obliged to you, Charlie. I’ll 
send it off at once. I’ve a busy day before me. All 
these letters to answer, a Committee meeting this 
afternoon and a Public Meeting at the Queen’s 
Hall to-night. Quite enough for an old lady of 
seventy-eight.” She put her papers together and 
stood by the bedside in silence. Then she bent 
over the pink Malmaison and inhaled its perfume. 

“What are you thinking of, Aunt Eleanor?” 

“Of a line in Xantine’s Picciola. The flower 
brought it to my mind. ‘La separation c’est la 
grande epreuve de la vie / ” 

“Separation is the great sorrow of life,” ventured 
Tuppy tentatively, feeling rather weak in his 
French. He wondered what the connection of 
ideas might be. Lady Milner nervously ran her 
fingers for a moment along the framed photograph 
at Tuppy’s side. 

“I’ve only you to live for, dear,” she said, with a 


DR. TUPPY 


121 


catch in her voice, “you and the animals. Promise 
you’ll never leave me, promise to stay by me to the 
end.” She bent over him and kissed him. Tuppy’s 
powers of rhetoric vanished. He felt a lump in his 
throat that made it hard to speak at all. Before 
he had found his voice, the old lady had stepped 
lightly from the room. 


CHAPTER VIII 


“ 4 What do you call the Play* ? 

‘The Mouse-trap.* ” 

Hamlet 

S OMEHOW or other within twenty-four hours 
the story leaked out; in fact, two stories. 
The first was that, for his disrespect towards one 
of the nurses, Mr. Oscar Smith had been taken to 
task by Mr. Charles Theophilus Tuppy and se- 
verely thrashed. The second was that Tuppy, 
having been assaulted and knocked down by the 
Gollywog, lay at death's door with a fractured base 
of the skull. Whence these rumours arose no one 
could say. Certainly neither report emanated from 
the accessories concerned, who vehemently denied 
any knowledge of the affair, but people have a 
wonderful way of putting two and two together 
and publishing the result as five. A Hospital, like 
any other large Institution, is full of eyes and ears. 
One porter had seen Mr. Tuppy arrive at the Gym- 
nasium, in fact had shown him the way, and another 
porter had seen him depart in a very groggy con- 
dition. Furthermore, Baxter discovered, upon 
examination, that the door which Tuppy desired 
should be closed, in order that he might not be 
122 


DR. TUPPY 


123 


knocked out through it, possessed an unusually 
roomy key-hole and commanded a full view of the 
arena in which the contest had been fought. Of 
the two stories, it was the second — namely, that 
Tuppy had fractured his skull — which was gen- 
erally accepted (the first appeared incredible), and 
indeed there were students who declared that the 
Gollywog had already made tracks abroad in an- 
ticipation of a fatal result. It was obvious to every 
one that something had happened, for on the day 
following the reported combat both Tuppy and 
the Gollywog failed to appear. By the evening of 
the same day it was rumoured at the Hospital that 
Tuppy was actually dead. The resident students, 
enjoying their post-prandial smoke in the cool of 
the evening, collected in groups round the foun- 
tain, or in the shelters of the Hospital Square, and 
discussed the situation with bated breath. There 
was no longer any reference to the “missing link” 
or “that blithering fool,” but a general concensus 
of opinion that “poor old Tuppy” had been always 
good-natured at heart, and, if he had lived, might 
have turned out quite a decent sort of chap after 
all. 

Consequently, when on the succeeding morning, 
at nine o’clock precisely, Tuppy presented himself 
in the crowded Surgery, with a whole skin, a jaunty 
step and a smile even cheerier than usual, the news 
travelled round the various departments like wild- 
fire, and produced what the Surgery porter subse- 
quently described as a really “tremenjous sensa- 
tion.” But Tuppy was altogether unconscious of 


124 


DR. TUPPY 


it. He never dreamed he had been the subject of 
startling reports. Had not his defective sight 
saved him from the knowledge that he was the 
cynosure of every eye, he would have stammered, 
and blushed, and felt extremely uncomfortable. 
As it was, he accepted the remarks of his imme- 
diate colleagues merely as general chaff and as 
having no reference to his escapade, of which he 
supposed them to be ignorant. 

“Why, Tuppy, man, we thought you were dead,” 
said one. 

“We were going to immortalize you in bronze 
as a Hospital hero,” laughed another. 

“Better be a live donkey than a dead lion,” re- 
plied Tuppy, and went on with his work. 

It was evident he did not wish to be questioned, 
and in view of the sudden revelation of his prowess 
his wishes met with unwonted respect. Men cast 
side glances at him in the intervals of their work, 
and whispered to each other as to his extraordinary 
physique. Such marvellous length of arm, such an 
unshapely but powerful skeleton, such muscular 
development ! For it was obvious, as the Golly wog 
had not smashed Tuppy, that Tuppy must have 
smashed the Gollywog. If not, why was Oscar 
Smith still absent from his duties? 

But to the Wards there had not been time as 
yet for the news of Tuppy’s reappearance to travel, 
and the Nurses were still busy with yesterday's 
version of the affair. Mary Ward, indeed, was 
plunged in gloom. The Probationers went about 
their work sadly, silently, mechanically. 


DR. TUPPY 


125 


Nurse Jessop, who had hardly closed her eyes all 
night, was off duty with a sick headache, and was 
sitting pale and unhappy in Sister Mary's room. 

“We mustn't give up hope, dear," Sister Mary 
was saying, “you know how stories get exaggerated 
in the Hospital." 

“But I heard it from one of the men direct, 
Sister. He stopped me in the Square last night as I 
was crossing to the Home, and asked me if I had 
heard the news about poor old Tuppy. I said I 
knew he'd had an accident. ‘He's dead,' he replied, 
and walked off without another word. He seemed 
quite upset about it." 

“It's no good meeting trouble half way. The 
man may have been misinformed." 

“But you can't get better after fracture of the 
base of the skull, Sister, can you ?" 

“I have heard of such cases," replied the Little 
Sister encouragingly, “although I've never nursed 
one; but we're not sure yet that Mr. Tuppy has 
fractured his base." 

“Couldn't I wire to Mrs. Tuppy and inquire? 
I've met her, you know." 

But Sister Mary thought that this would hardly 
do. They might regret it afterwards. After all, 
they were so ignorant of the real situation. 

“You had better lie down, dear," she continued. 
“I must get on with the Ward work. Mr. Murray 
will be up presently, and if he brings any news I'll 
come and tell you at once." She made Nurse Jessop 
comfortable on the couch, and half drew the cur- 
tain of the window to shield her eyes from the light. 


126 


DR. TUPPY 


“Sister,” said the girl, with nervous pauses, shyly 
putting out her hand, “you’ll think it very strange 
that I should worry like this about — a Dresser. 
But Mr. Tuppy seems — different to the others, and 
you see — you see — I’ve been to Mr. Tuppy’s home.” 

Sister Mary bent over her with a grave, sweet 
smile, and kissed her on the cheek. “I understand, 
dear,” she whispered, “I understand.” 

So Nurse Jessop was left in the half-darkened 
room to endure the misery of a heavy heart and an 
aching head. In a few short hours the whole world 
had changed. Yesterday she had come to her work 
with such a sense of happiness and joy. She had 
prepared a new splint for Sally Chandler. Charlie 
— how strange that she should think of him as 
Charlie! — had promised to be in the Ward by ten 
to put it on. But he had never appeared, and she 
had felt angry, yes, really angry. It was terrible to 
think of now. For later, she had learned the cause. 
Some one had knocked him down, and fractured his 
skull, and he lay at death’s door ; and in the evening 
had come the worst news of all, she had heard that 
he was dead. It was all too sad, too terrible for 
words. For there was no one who could sympathize 
with her, no one who could understand, no one to 
whom she could confess her secret. This was in- 
deed the first time she had dared to confess it to 
herself. But she knew it now. She loved him. It 
was a kind of solace to put it into words, to give it 
utterance in the empty room, to proclaim it to Sister 
Mary’s household gods. 

“Charlie, I love you,” she cried aloud, “Charlie, 


DR. TUPPY 


127 


I love you.” And the grandfather clock ticked 
loudly. "Wait, wait,” it said, "Wait, wait” ; and the 
ivory Sphinx on the mantelpiece seemed to smile 
and to understand ; and the china dog in the corner 
had a wonderfully knowing look. 

How noisily the lift was working! Who could 
have banged the back Ward door like that? 
Every sound jarred upon her throbbing head. Now, 
they were laughing in the Ward. What a shame! 
How could Sister allow it with Mr. Tuppy lying 
dead ? There was the tramp of a heavy step coming 
towards the room. Surely they knew that Sister 
wasn’t here. She started to a sitting posture and 
listened. She heard the handle softly turned, and 
then round the curtain appeared what for a moment 
she took to be a vision, a vision of Tuppy wreathed 
in a hundred smiles. But no, it was solid flesh and 
blood. It was Charlie himself, Charlie alive and 
well ! Something seemed to catch her by the throat 
and make her gasp, she tried to steady herself, but 
before she knew what she was doing she had buried 
her face in her hands and burst into tears. 

This was the psychological moment, but Tuppy 
did not seize it. 

The citadel had opened wide her gates, but the 
conqueror did not enter in. He failed to grasp the 
situation. Then came the inevitable reaction. 
Nurse Jessop was ashamed. She dried her eyes and 
seized her sword and buckler. 

"You might have knocked, Mr. Tuppy,” she said 
petulantly, "I can’t bear to be startled. Besides 


128 


DR. TUPPY 


at the door of Sister’s room it surely would be more 
polite.” 

“ I b-beg your pardon, Nurse,” he stammered, 
“I’m very, very sorry.” 

But she felt she must give him another thrust 
to make her position clear. 

“You’ll never get on in practice,” she continued, 
“if you frighten your patients into hysterics like 
that.” 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, “Pm sorry. Sister 
Mary told me not to knock, and to come in quietly.” 

“Of course somebody else is to blame. It’s 
always the way with men.” She leaned back on the 
cushions wearily as if she wished to be alone. 

The tears started to Tuppy’s eyes. 

“I do hope you’ll soon be better, Nurse.” he said 
in a troubled voice, and without another word he 
turned softly and crept on tip-toe from the room. 
When she looked up he had gone. 

So Tuppy went about his work that day, and 
indeed for many days to come, in a very chastened 
spirit. Nurse Jessop was off duty for a week, a 
week which he would have found unendurable had 
it not been for the kind offices of Sister Mary. She 
brought him news daily of the absent nurse, but for 
a message Tuppy waited in vain. Perhaps it was 
in answer to his unspoken thought, written so clear- 
ly in the eager expectancy of his face, that she said 
to him one day : “You must be patient, Mr. Tuppy. 
Nurse Jessop has a heart of gold, but a curious 
temper. Things may go better when she returns to 
the Ward.” But things did not go better when 


DR. TUPPY 


129 


Nurse Jessop returned to the Ward, at least as far 
as Tuppy was concerned. Such work, indeed, as 
they had to do together they did cheerfully, har- 
moniously and with good will. But an evil spell, a 
strange restraint had fallen upon them which they 
tried in vain to break. Neither seemed able to refer 
to the last day on which they had met; they con- 
versed on general topics only ; the former intimacy, 
the old rapport had gone. 

But with his fellow-students it was otherwise. 
Never had Baxter been more friendly, more amia- 
ble, more sociable. And the Gollywog who, after a 
week’s absence, had returned to the Hospital with 
the faintest discoloration under the left eye, and 
with a circumstantial account of how he had 
knocked his head in the cellar when he was trying to 
draw a glass of beer in the dark, exhibited a more 
kindly interest in his quondam opponent than he 
had ever displayed before. Sister Mary regarded 
these marked and obvious amenities with suspicion, 
but to Tuppy they seemed the gracious and generous 
advances of a magnanimous temperament. 

“Come and have a smoke and a drink in my room, 
old boy,” said Baxter to him one morning when the 
Surgery work was finished. Tuppy would be de- 
lighted. True, it was entirely against his principles 
to be smoking and drinking when he ought to be 
in the Wards, but he felt the recklessness of an 
abandoned lover, and he hoped Nurse Jessop might 
hear of his downward course, and know to what 
desperate excesses she had driven him. 

The atmosphere of Baxter’s room might have 


130 


DR. TUPPY 


justified Tuppy in his fancy that he was starting 
on a vicious career. Through the clouds of tobacco 
smoke he could distinguish the forms of the rest of 
the coterie, from whom he received an uproarious 
welcome. Jumping Jimmy and the Gollywog 
offered him their respective chairs with a profound 
bow and a sweeping flourish, whilst the Professor 
went so far as to remove his feet from the table as a 
mark of extreme courtesy. 

“Now, gentlemen,” said Baxter, “a whisky and 
soda and a good cigar for our distinguished guest, 
Charles Theophilus, if you please.” 

But whisky and a cigar at that time of day were 
more than Tuppy would attempt to negotiate. 
Fortified with a plain soda and a Virginian cigar- 
ette, he felt he was going the pace fast enough. 

Nurse Jessop might still relent and, if so, he 
wanted to be able to lay at her feet something 
worthier than a shattered wreck. Anyhow, she 
would perceive he had been smoking, which might 
suggest to her the new career on which he had 
started. If he could only look as pale and unhappy 
as he felt, he might move her heart to pity, but 
Nature had blessed and cursed him with perennial 
health and an eternal smile. 

“Now lads,” said the Professor, “as we are all 
together, I want you to help me in persuading our 
friend Tuppy to become a member of the Hospital 
Dramatic Club.” 

“I shall be most delighted to second him,” ex- 
claimed the Gollywog, “if he'll stand.” 

“Of course he'll stand,” continued the Professor, 


DR. TUPPY 


131 

“there are many chaps in the Hospital who'd be too 
glad of the chance.” 

What was the warning note that echoed in 
Tuppy's mind? “Promise me,” Sister Mary had 
said to him only a week before, “that if you're asked 
to join the Dramatic Club, you'll refuse. I have 
a reason.” It did not occur to Tuppy to inquire 
what the reason was. He merely laughed and 
acquiesced. Indeed, he had no histrionic ambition, 
but now that the question had arisen, a thing he had 
never anticipated, it seemed difficult, without 
causing offence, to know exactly how to refuse. 
But he had given the Little Sister a promise and 
there was an end of the matter. 

“It’s awfully g-g-good of you,” he replied, 
groping about in his mind for an excuse, “but I 
d-d-don't think I have the necessary qualifications.” 

“Necessary qualifications!” exclaimed the Pro- 
fessor, “why, man, you're a born actor. Any one 
can see that at a glance. What a Hamlet you'd 
make ! What an Othello !” 

“What a Macbeth!” suggested Jimmy Mason 
sepulchrally. The Gollywog broke into an incon- 
tinent roar. The others looked at him reproach- 
fully. 

“I was thinking,” he said in explanation of his 
hilarity, “what a splendid figure you’d cut as Charles 
Surface. To my mind light comedy is your role ” 

Tuppy was the most ingenuous of mortals, but 
he began to wonder in his mind if the Little Sister 
had not some good foundation for her warning. 
Baxter’s sincerity he knew to be above suspicion, 


132 


DR. TUPPY 


Baxter was his friend; the Golly wog he would hke 
to trust, but as for the Professor he frankly had his 
doubts. 

"I fear you over-estimate my ability,” he replied, 
“but in any case I must confess I have no great 
regard for Acting as an Art.” 

“Why?” asked the Professor with a touch of 
asperity. 

“Well, for many reasons.” 

“Give me one.” 

“Well,” continued Tuppy, driven into a corner, 
“for one thing it is merely interpretative.” 

“Oh, you don’t believe in the 'great creations’ of 
the stage?” 

“Surely it is a figure of speech ?” 

“I venture to differ,” replied the Professor, recall- 
ing his famous performance at the last Hospital 
entertainment; “I think the playing of a great part 
as much a creation as the painting of a picture, or 
the writing of a poem. Let’s have another reason.” 

“Well, it’s ephemeral in its results.” 

“Oh, hang it all, everything is ephemeral. Life is 
ephemeral, but it is very desirable for all that.” 

“Come, Charlie,” interposed Baxter, feeling the 
growing tension of the atmosphere, “piano playing 
is merely interpretative, and ephemeral in its results, 
but you’re fond of the piano.” 

“True ! and I can understand a man being fond of 
acting; but piano playing has the pull over acting 
in one particular at least, it is not undignified.” The 
Professor was obviously nettled and restored his 


DR. TUPPY 133 

feet to their original position on the table just under 
Tuppy's nose. 

“And in what way is Acting undignified ?" he 
asked with a sneer. 

“Well, to my mind/’ replied Tuppy. who began to 
scent an enemy, “it is undignified for a man to daub 
his face with paint every night, to repeat like a 
parrot the same words, to perform like a marionette 
the same actions, to provide in his own person the 
canvas for another man's picture, to be the mouth- 
piece of another man's thought, to make capital 
out of his own idiosyncrasies, to ape laughter which 
he does not feel, to shed tears which should be sacred 
to the real sorrows of life, and above all, like an 
obsequious lackey, to scrape and bow in humble 
acknowledgment of the vapid plaudits of a gaping 
crowd. No, thank you, Dick, I won't have another 
cigarette, I must be off to the Wards." 

“You chaps gave the show away," remarked Bax- 
ter quietly when his guest had departed, “Tuppy 
saw you were pulling his leg. He's an awful fool 
of course, but he’s not quite such a fool as he looks." 

“Insufferable prig!" exclaimed the Professor, 
“with his rot about dignity. Acting is an Art, and 
an Art cannot be undignified." 

“We’ll have him and his dignity on toast yet, 
Professor. This way has failed; we'll try the 
other." 


CHAPTER IX 


“The words of his mouth were smoother than butter, but 
War was in his heart.” Psalm lv. 

T UPPY always remembered the date of this 
discussion upon the Actor’s Art, for the 
following day proved to be one of the most moment- 
ous in his life. 

“A letter for you, sir, marked official; sent up 
from the cloak-room,” said the Porter as Tuppy 
entered the Surgery on this eventful morning. It 
was not until the Surgery work was done, and he 
was crossing the Square on the way to the Wards 
that he thought of the letter again. The gracious 
memory of yesterday’s matutinal cigarette was still 
fresh in his mind. He determined to repeat the 
experiment, out in the open Square, under the very 
windows of Mary Ward. Nurse Jessop should see 
he had other interests in life besides his work — and 
her. The shelter close to him was empty. Under 
the soothing influence of a smoke and of the rest- 
ful murmur of the fountain, he would sit down and 
examine the contents of this official document. It 
was a large blue ominous-looking envelope marked 
“immediate,” and addressed in typewriting to 
Charles Theophilus Tuppy, Esq. It evidently came 
from the Office. What in the name of Heaven did 
134 


DR. TUPPY 


135 


it portend? It could not be about his Hospital 
fees. He had paid them all long ago. He opened 
it hesitatingly. Suddenly he guessed its contents. 
Last term he had competed for a Hospital Prize 
Essay. This, no doubt, was the result. Could it 
be possible that he had been commended, or had 
even won the prize. How delighted Aunt Eleanor 
would be! He leaned back on his seat, crossed his 
legs, took a deep puff of smoke, unfolded the docu- 
ment, and prepared to enjoy himself. Then the 
cigarette fell from his fingers and lay unheeded on 
the ground. Tuppy sat motionless, his nose glued 
to the paper. At the first reading he grasped 
little more than the head-line “Good Discipline 
Committee.” Then it all became clear to him and 
he read, — 

“Good Discipline Committee.” 

“To-morrow, Friday, the 14th inst., in the 
Anatomical Theatre, the Good Discipline Committee 
of this Hospital will hold an inquiry into the private 
conduct and professional efficiency of Mr. Charles 
Theophilus Tuppy. Mr. Tuppy’s attendance is 
required at 7 p.m. precisely, without fail.” 

Tuppy turned hot and then cold. Friday, the 
14th inst. That was to-day. If he had been 
arrested on some criminal charge, he could not have 
been more shocked and amazed. That the Good 
Discipline Committee should be even conscious of 
his existence seemed in itself to be a disgrace. He 


DR. TUPPY 


136 

had a horror of the Good Discipline Committee. 
Every one agreed that its methods were inquisi- 
torial, its attitude uncompromising, its decisions 
arbitrary. It was influenced by spies and anony- 
mous informers. It was a tribunal against which 
there was no appeal, and to appear before it was 
almost synonymous with rustication, either for a 
period or all time. If the Good Discipline Com- 
mittee had come to the conclusion that he, Tuppy, 
was an undesirable student, it would find an excuse 
for getting rid of him by hook or by crook. And 
what could be the excuse upon which its members 
were going to seize? Had they heard of his anti- 
vivisection proclivities? Had they been informed 
that it was chiefly to him that his Aunt was indebted 
for her bitter attacks on the modern methods of 
Research? or would they oust him on the ground 
of professional inefficiency, and find their justifica- 
tion in the inversion of Sally Chandler’s splint ? 

“Hullo, Charlie. Why so glum? Is that a writ 
you’ve got from your tailor?” Tuppy glanced up 
to encounter the smiling face of Dick Baxter. 

“I wish it was. Sit down and look at that, Dick.” 
He put the disquieting document in his friend’s 
hand. Baxter drew a long whistle. 

“By Jove, old chap, I am sorry. What on earth 
can they have against you? You haven’t been 
fooling with any of the Nurses, have you ?” 

Tuppy ’s thoughts reverted to the Temple Gar- 
dens, but surely the Good Discipline Committee 
could not object to his escorting a guest home from 
his mother’s house. 


DR. TUPPY 


137 


“You know,” continued Baxter, “they ran poor 
old Bingham out, only because he took a Nurse to a 
fancy Dress Ball at Covent Garden.” 

But Tuppy had never taken a Nurse to a Ball at 
Covent Garden. The worst he had been guilty of 
was a very formal lunch at a Rectory in the vicinity 
with a Nurse whom he did not think it necessary 
to name. 

“Perhaps they’ve heard how you punished the 
Gollywog, and think you give too much time to 
boxing.” 

“But that’s the only occasion on which I ever 
boxed in my life,” replied Tuppy, in dismay at the 
number of ghosts rising out of what he had always 
regarded as an innocent career. 

“Ah, my boy, but the difficulty is to prove these 
things. You’re reported to be the best boxer in the 
Hospital.” 

The hopelessness of the coming ordeal, the 
certainty of being condemned without a hearing, 
began to take possession of Tuppy’s mind. 

“You don’t object to my keeping this little 
billet-doux ” Baxter inquired, folding up the official 
document and putting it in his pocket, “I’d like 
to have it framed.” 

Tuppy felt too hopeless and distressed to object 
to anything. 

“I shall preserve it,” continued his friend encour- 
agingly, “among the curios in my private chamber 
of horrors. I’ve an excellent copy of a document 
condemning a man to the stake, period of the 
Spanish Inquisition, and a lettre de cachet, which I 


138 


DR. TUPPY 


believe to be original, of the time of the French 
Revolution.” 

Tuppy gave vent to an involuntary groan. 

“Now my advice to you is to buck up. Take a 
good dinner before you start and a small bottle of 
Champagne. Don't worry. If a man is disgraced 
in this country, he can always change his name and 
go to the Colonies. I'll stick to you even if the 
whole Hospital cuts you dead. And one word 
more. I see you are summoned to appear at 7 p.m. 
Whatever you do, go in evening dress. It will be a 
mark of respect. Yes, I'm quite sure. Verb. sap. 
Write to me to-morrow if — well, if you're taking 
change of air. By-bye.” Baxter retired to take 
his usual morning refreshment and Tuppy resumed 
his way to the Wards. But the lightness had gone 
out of his step, the sunshine from his heart. If he 
had only seen Nurse Jessop's anxious sidelong 
glances he might have taken courage, but he saw 
nothing but the pictures which Baxter's references 
to the Spanish Inquisition and lettre de cachet had 
conjured in his mind. 

“Yer've got the 'eadache, Dr. Tupny, ain't yer?” 
Sally Chandler asked. 

Tuppy smiled his best smile and repudiated the 
suggestion. But Sally had the shrewdness that 
belongs to London children. She had noticed 
the cessation of amenities between her favourite 
Nurse and Doctor, and had drawn her own con- 
clusions. 

“Yer can't deceive me, Dr. Tupny,” she con- 
tinued, “/ know what yer’ve got. It's the 'eart- 


DR. TUPPY 


139 


ache. It’s a shame. I shall tell Nurse Jessop.” 
Tuppy was seriously alarmed. 

“S-s-sally, if you ever mention my name to Nurse 
Jessop I’ll never forgive you. ,, 

“All right, Dr. Tupny,” the child laughed, “I 
won’t tell.” 

Tuppy thought he had better take steps to ensure 
the fulfilment of the promise. 

“The fact is, Sally/’ he said, slipping something 
under the bedclothes, “as I crossed the Square I 
found a bad sixpence. It’s very distressing, you 
know, to find a bad sixpence.” 

“I wish I ’ad, Dr. Tupny.” 

“Well, you look in your bed, Sally, and perhaps 
you’ll find a good one,” and Tuppy passed on to his 
next case. But he could not concentrate upon his 
work. If he had been dispensing medicines it would 
have been a poor outlook for his patients. As it 
was, when he had upset a bowl of lotion over No. 8 , 
and, in fastening a bandage, had stuck a pin so far 
into No. 10 that she screamed aloud, he thought 
that perhaps he had better postpone any further 
attentions to the sick poor to another occasion. 
In this conclusion the House Surgeon readily con- 
curred. 

“My dear Charlie,” Murray said, “you’d better go 
off duty. Your pulse is a hundred, and you’re as 
shaky as the Devil. You go home and lie down.” 

So Tuppy went off duty, but not to lie down. 
He felt he must keep moving. Anything to dis- 
tract his thoughts ! He strolled westwards through 
the crowded streets enjoying, for once, their noise 


140 


DR. TUPPY 


and bustle, peering into the shop windows, gazing 
critically at hoardings he was accustomed to pass 
without a thought. He wandered on, losing count 
of time and locality. When he reached the little 
house in Kensington Gore it was already five o’clock. 
Almost time, thank goodness, to dress for the 
coming ordeal. There was Aunt Eleanor in the 
window! What was she waving at him? A flag 
or a newspaper ? The old lady met him at the door. 

“They’ve put it in, Charlie,” she exclaimed de- 
lightedly, “they’ve put it in ; and I’ve had a 
charming letter from the Editor asking me if I’d 
like to subscribe to the local Home for Lost Dogs.” 

Tuppy guessed his aunt referred to the letter they 
had mutually concocted and dispatched to the 
Brixton Weekly Argus and that it was a copy of 
that distinguished periodical which she had waved 
in triumph from the window. 

“But I’m sorry to say, Charlie dear,” Lady Milner 
continued when they had reached the drawing- 
room, “that they’ve cut out every one of the italics.” 

“I was afraid they would,” replied Tuppy, en- 
deavoring to be interested. 

“Well, dear, I thought that after dinner to-night, 
you and I would write a postscript making our 
position clearer. If I sent it, with a subscription to 
the local Home for Dogs, perhaps the Editor might 
give us another hearing.” Tuppy looked distressed. 

“I’m sorry to say I’ve got to go back to the 
Hospital, Aunt Eleanor. I came home only to 

dress — but to-morrow ” The old lady’s face 

fell. 


DR. TUPPY 


141 

“Oh, Charlie dear, are you going to enjoy 
yourself at the Hospital? And Pve been looking 
forward all day to a tete-a-tete.” 

“Pm afraid there won’t be much enjoyment 
about it,” replied Tuppy lugubriously, “it’s a matter 
of duty. I’ve got to attend a — well, a Committee 
Meeting.” 

“Are you the chairman, dear?” 

“Well, no, I’m not exactly the chairman, but ” 

“But they couldn’t do without you ?” 

“No, they really couldn’t do without me, Aunt 
Eleanor.” 

“Well, dear, I’m glad they have got sense enough 
at the Hospital to appreciate your good qualities.” 

Tuppy winced. Lady Milner noticed it. 

“You are not in any trouble, Charlie?” she asked 
wistfully, putting out her hand to his. 

“Oh, no, Aunt Eleanor.” He would have given 
anything for her sympathy, but it would be unkind 
to worry her with the truth. 

“You’re sure there’s nothing I can do for you,” 
the old lady persisted; “you are not in want of 
anything?” 

“No, indeed, Aunt Eleanor.” 

“I know,” she continued tentatively, “I know 
that young men have heavy expenses.” Tuppy 
sprang up from his chair and stopped her with a 
kiss. 

“Dear Aunt Eleanor, you give me too much as 
it is, too much love, too much in everything.” 

“I want to give you,” she replied, her eyes filling 


DR. TUPPY 


142 

with tears, “I want to give you, dear, what you 
have given to me — happiness/’ 

What could be the matter with him Lady Milner 
wondered to herself after dinner as she sat in the 
twilight alone. That something had gone wrong 
she was sure. Had he failed in some examination? 
Had he fallen in love? Perhaps that was it. She 
remembered the photograph in his room. Could 
it be possible that he had proposed? Could it be 
possible that any girl had been such a fool as to 
refuse him? 

“Refuse to be the wife of my Charlie,” she ex- 
claimed to herself with an impatient shrug of the 
shoulders, “Ma foi! there’s not a woman in the 
world who is good enough.” 


CHAPTER X 


“I am escaped with the skin of my teeth.” 

Job xix. 

I T is a melancholy and deplorable fact that Man, 
the Lord of Creation, is still, like the humbler 
members of the animal kingdom, a machine. Cease 
stoking him and his fires go out, not alas! as in a 
steam engine, to be replenished and relit at will, but 
for ever. One man may be a dependant on drink, 
another on drugs, but every man is a dependant on 
food. Nor is the normal working of that which 
he proudly describes as his mind, less subordinate to 
physical support than the normal working of his 
body. Give the drinker his alcohol, the drug- 
maniac his dram, and life assumes its most roseate 
hue. Feed a starving man and he will smile 
at his trouble. Your full stomach is a great 
philosopher. 

Tuppy would have been wise if he had followed 
his friend’s advice in one respect at least, and 
fortified himself with a good meal. He had taken 
but a small breakfast, and no lunch. His brain 
cells, in common with the other tissues of his body, 
were suffering from want of pabulum and were 
exhausted with those abortive processes of cerebra- 
143 


144 


DR. TUPPY 


tion known as worry. They were, indeed, as 
thoroughly disorganized as the over-worked clerks 
of a mercantile establishment overtaken by disaster, 
or of a bank upon which there has been a sudden 
run. Some were heavy with the desire to sleep, 
others too excited to calculate correctly, all were in 
a state of extreme irritability, and incapable of 
understanding a simple question or of giving an 
intelligent reply. Tuppy’ s mental condition, but 
unfortunately not the cause of it, was revealed to 
him as he meandered aimlessly in the vicinity of the 
Hospital, waiting for the appointed hour to strike. 
He happened to meet a friend. 

“Hullo, Twopenny, what are you doing here at 
this time of night; going to dine with the Lord 
Mayor ?” Tuppy tried to laugh, but couldn't. 

“Y-y-yes,” he stammered in sepulchral tones, “I 
mean n-n-no.” His voice sounded to him as if it 
was far away and belonged to another person. 

“Perhaps you’re dining with the Haberdashers’ 
Company and showing your beastly independence 
by not wearing a tie.” The student left him with a 
laugh. 

Tuppy put his fingers to his collar and stood 
aghast. It was true. He had dressed and come 
out without putting on a tie. The perspiration 
collected on his brow. Was he going out of his 
mind? When he was talking to his friend he had 
felt so strange, so queer. Just as if he had a dual 
personality. But about the tie, he was at least sane 
enough to know that something must be done. He 
remembered there was a haberdasher’s shop in the 


DR. TUPPY 


145 


next street. He darted off at full speed — only to 
find it closed. If he took the second turning on the 
left and the first on the right he would find another, 
a constable told him. Tuppy blessed the intelligence 
of the City police and ran on. It was a tiny shop, 
but at least it was open. 

“I w-w-want a wh-wh-white tie,” he gasped, “at 
o-o-once.” 

“A white tie?” repeated the shopman, scratching 
his chin reflectively. Then he cast a rapid glance 
over a pile of boxes and drew out one with a 
flourish. 

“That is an excellent line of goods,” he said, 
waving a large satin sailor-knot tie in Tuppy’s face. 

“No, no. I w-w-want an evening tie.” 

The shopman threw another searching glance 
over his shelves. 

“We ’aven’t a great demand for hevening ties,” 
he remarked meditatively. Then he made a sudden 
dive into the goods in the shop window, and pro- 
duced in triumph a small white silk bow with satin 
spots. 

“Six-three-farthings,” he said, “and cheap at the 
price.” 

“But I w-w-want a cambric tie,” insisted Tuppy, 
“and not made up. One to t-t-tie myself.” 

But the shopman shook his head. He thought 
the gentleman unreasonable. In his opinion this 
was a really “dinety bou.” His customers were 
particular, and never would purchase a scarf they 
had to tie themselves. At this moment the City 
clocks clanged out the hour of seven, and Tuppy 


146 


DR. TUPPY 


realized that it was a case of now or never, this tie 
or no tie at all. He seized the offending bow in 
desperation, fastened its flimsy buckle at the back 
of his neck, threw down a shilling on the counter 
and rushed into the street. 

As he ran along the thoroughfares to the Hospital 
he wondered if no tie at all would be preferable to 
this monstrosity. It was the kind of tie a man 
might find himself wearing in a nightmare. He 
turned at every shop window to get a fleeting 
reflection of its image. In a badly lighted room 
he thought its silk texture and meretricious spots 
might pass unnoticed, but that it was made up, 
the mathematical precision of its tortured folds 
revealed beyond a doubt. 

It was five minutes past the hour as Tuppy, hot 
and breathless, dashed through the Hospital gates. 
Thank God, the Square was empty. The Students 
dined in Hall at seven. He made a bee-line for the 
School block. It seemed deserted. Could there 
be any mistake ? He had always thought the 
School was closed at six. But no, as he approached 
the entrance steps, the large oak door was half 
opened from within. He rushed through. 

“Upstairs on the right,” said some one in a low 
voice. “You’re late.” Tuppy could not distinguish 
the speaker. It was too dark. He was conscious 
of the door being softly closed behind him, and 
he heard the heavy key turned in the lock with 
an ominous click. He bounded up the stone 
staircase two steps at a time. The Anatomical 


DR. TUPPY 147 

Theatre, he remembered it well. How many weary 
hours he had spent within its gloomy walls. 

“This way, Mr. Tuppy,” said a voice from the 
recesses of the landing. Tuppy turned to the door- 
way, through which he saw a light shining, and 
found himself in the lecturer’s ante-room. 

“You’re to ’ang your coat up ’ere, and to go in at 
once,” said the man with an audible chuckle. He 
made no offer of assistance, but stood with his 
hand ready to fling wide the door that opened into 
the Anatomical Theatre. He was an odd-looking 
man with a heavy beard, and dressed in the Hospital 
uniform, but otherwise he was as much a nightmare 
of a Hospital porter as the spotted bow was a 
nightmare of a tie. Tuppy’s exhausted brain 
cells reeled again; again he felt that queer feeling 
in his head, that strange sence of duality; perhaps 
it was a nightmare after all. He pinched himself 
to see if he was awake. 

“Come, ’urry up,” said the man relentlessly, and 
before the victim could collect his scattered senses 
he heard himself announced in a stentorian voice 
“Mr. Charles Theophilus Tuppy.” 

In the course of his restless peregrinations during 
that wretched afternoon Tuppy had observed 
in a shop window, and he had vastly admired, a steel 
engraving depicting a Christian martyr entering 
the Roman arena to meet his death. What a 
picture to keep before him in his coming trial! 
Such smiling resignation, such stateliness of mien, 
such impressive dignity! 

“Mr. Charles Theophilus Tuppy.” 


1 48 


DR. TUPPY 


At the repetition of his name his fighting spirit 
returned to him, he wiped his perspiring brow, 
pulled himself together, and passed into the theatre 
with the lofty bearing of his great ideal. But it is 
doubtful if the greatest artist could invest even a 
Christian martyr with dignity in modern evening 
dress, and if to his picture he was forced to add a 
sixpenny silk bow, flopping in mid-air and desper- 
ately clinging by one of its made-up ends to the neck 
of its wearer, he would abandon the task as hopeless. 
It may safely be assumed that if Tuppy had been 
taken, just as he stood at this thrilling moment of 
his history, and had been thrown defenceless into 
the Roman arena, he would have emerged scathless 
and unharmed. The lions would have rolled in the 
dust and roared — and roared and roared again — 
with laughter, not with rage. If he had walked 
down Piccadilly the most hardened cab-horse would 
have shied at him ; if he had been set up as an effigy 
in a cornfield the oldest crow would not have ven- 
tured within a mile. 

It is not to be supposed that the members of the 
Good Discipline Committee possessed less sense 
of humour than the beasts of prey, although to 
their credit they made more effort to conceal it. 
One hid his mouth behind his hand, another buried 
his nose in the table, a third deliberately covered 
his head and shoulders with a handkerchief, his fat 
body shaking like a jelly underneath; some one 
spluttered like a damp squib, the sparks scattered, 
and with the ignition of their pent-up mirth the 


DR. TUPPY 


149 

whole Committee exploded in a roar. The Chair- 
man was the first to recover. 

“Silence, gentlemen !” he said, striking the table 
with a wooden hammer, “silence if you please.” 

In the meantime, Tuppy maintained the im- 
pressive dignity of a Christian martyr, sublimely 
unconscious of the gyrations of the spotted tie that 
dangled helplessly beneath his chin. He wondered 
what might be the cause of the Committee's mirth. 
Something must have happened just before he 
entered. Committees always laughed loudly at the 
Chairman's jokes. He wished they would turn the 
lights the other way, he wished he didn't feel so 
queer and strange, he wished so many things ; per- 
haps it was a nightmare after all. 

“Now, sir, step forward,” said the Chairman. 
No, it wasn't a nightmare. Tuppy stepped forward, 
and felt he was awake. 

From his new position he could see more clearly. 
The sight is ever guided by the mind. Point out to 
a person the hidden figure in a picture puzzle, tell 
him the word he cannot decipher in a letter, and 
from that time forth the word and picture are as 
clear as day. To Tuppy's defective vision every 
near object was obscure until he had thrust his nose 
into it, but, this process once accomplished, the 
object became almost as plain to him as to his 
neighbours. He could not correctly see a stranger's 
face a yard away from him, at ten yards he could 
recognize a friend. And so, in spite of the shadow 
enveloping the dais on which the Committee was 
seated, he at once recognized the Chairman. It 


DR. TUPPY 


ISO 

was Sir William Fell, arrayed in all the pomp of his 
academic robes, and with his long flowing hair, 
which all the world suspected was a wig, looking, it 
seemed to Tuppy, more like a wig than ever. On 
his left sat Mr. Tucker, clad as usual in his grey 
frock-coat of pre-historic cut. On his right Sir 
James Chudleigh, the Consulting Physician of the 
Hospital, popularly known amongst the Students as 
Father Christmas. That the four other members 
of the Committee, who were all strange to him, 
had more resemblance to the bearded pirates of 
a comic opera than to the officials of a London 
Hospital, Tuppy attributed to his defective sight. 

“Now, sir,” said Sir William, with that charming 
suavity of manner and clear enunciation which 
distinguished him as one of the most delightful 
speakers of the day, “your name I believe is Charles 
Theophilus Tuppy.” Tuppy bowed assent. 

“You are now,” continued Sir William, referring 
to his notes, “you are now in your seventh year at 
the Hospital. Are you qualified ?” 

“N-n-n-no,” stammered Tuppy, “but ” 

“I want no Tuts/ sir. Give me a plain ‘Yes’ or 
‘No/ Are you qualified?” 

“N-n-no.” 

“You are not an M.R.C.S., L.R.C.P. ?” 

“N-n-no.” 

“Nor an L.M. double S.A.?” 

“N-n-no.” 

“Nor an L.M.A. double S.?” 

“N-n-no.” Tuppy began to feel bewildered. 

“You’re quite sure of that?” asked Mr. Tucker. 


DR. TUPPY 


151 

Yes, Tuppy was quite sure; he had never even 
heard of the qualification before. Sir William re- 
ferred to his notes again. 

“Now, tell me, sir, have you ever attempted to 
bribe an employe of this Hospital ?” Tuppy felt 
indignant at the very suggestion. 

“Certainly not, Sir William.” 

“Take care, sir, take care.” Then the episode of 
Sister Mary and the florin recurred to Tuppy’s 
mind. Without involving Baxter he could give no 
explanation. He was silent. 

“You confess, sir?” Tuppy bowed his head with 
the submission of a Christian martyr. 

“Gentlemen, he confesses,” continued Sir William 
with tragic emphasis; “he confesses to bribery and 
corruption.” The four pirates lifted up their hands 
in horror; Father Christmas clicked sounds of 
disapproval with his tongue; Mr. Tucker shook his 
head and murmured “Infamous.” 

“Now, sir,” resumed the Inquisitor, “tell me, did 
you ever write an anonymous letter ?” 

“Never,” replied Tuppy stoutly. 

“Gentlemen,” said Sir William with an oratorical 
sweep of the arm, “look at that smiling face, that 
placid brow. Would you believe it possible that a 
countenance so stamped with truth should hide the 
soul of that worst of liars — a prevaricator?” 

“Shame,” said Mr. Tucker. Tuppy flushed with 
anger and essayed to speak. 

“Mark me, gentlemen, I will put the same ques- 
tion in another form. Did you ever send an 
anonymous communication ?” 


152 


DR. TUPPY 


The “No” died on Tuppy’ s lips. He remembered 
Mrs. Wright’s sewing-machine and his typewritten 
message “with best wishes from a friend.” 

“Did you ever make an assignation with a young 
and guileless Nurse of this Hospital to meet you at a 
certain house in Covent Garden, and, to prevent 
interruption in your amours, did you paint, or cause 
to be painted on the door of the aforesaid house the 
notice 'Do not ring’ ?” 

“My f-f-father’s house,” exclaimed Tuppy, in- 
dignantly, “at my m-m-mother’s invitation, at 
her ” 

“Silence, sir! Do not sully the sacred name of 
Mother by invoking it in such a case as this. You 
forget that we have mothers, too.” 

“No, no,” murmured Mr. Tucker sotto voce, 
“one mother each, not two.” 

“I say you forget that we also have mothers.” 
Sir William darted forth an angry finger at the 
accused, “Perhaps you will tell us that it was your 
mother who left the house with this deluded girl 
under the pretext of escorting her to that modern 
Juggernaut, a motor bus; that it was your mother 
who with honeyed words and smiling face decoyed 
her to the river side, that it was your mother who 
tempted her against her will into the quiet recesses 
of the Temple, that it was your mother who sat 
there by her side and poured into her blushing ears 
impassioned words of love, that it was your mother 
that brought her to the gates of this great Institu- 
tion, that it was your mother who went straight 
from her gracious presence to engage in a fierce and 


DR. TUPPY 


153 


savage fight, that it was your mother’s gentle hand 
that blacked your opponent’s eye, and for a whole 
week deprived the Hospital of the services of one of 
its most distinguished students.” Tuppy was struck 
dumb. These were the monstrous suggestions of 
a nightmare. And yet fact was so blended with 
fiction, truth with calumny, that it would have 
been hard for his reeling brain to frame a credible 
defence. 

“There is one other matter to which I am com- 
pelled to refer,” resumed Sir William in more 
measured tones, “I believe you object to our 
modern methods of Research.” Tuppy remem- 
bered Aunt Eleanor and was resolved to “come 
out.” 

“Yes, I do,” he answered without hesitation. 

“Have you ever written, or assisted others to 
write to the Public Press, letters reflecting on these 
methods ?” 

“Yes.” 

“Charles Theophilus Tuppy,” proceeded Sir Will- 
iam, in the solemn accents of a judge who has 
assumed the black cap, “you stand before this 
Committee, convicted of grave misconduct and of 
many offences unworthy of a gentleman. You have 
shown yourself to be guilty of gross prevarication, 
of sending anonymous communications, of bribery 
and corruption, of demoralizing the young, of 
violence and brutality, of attacking your profession 
in the Public Press. Heinous and reprehensible as 
these offences are, I think my colleagues will agree 
with me, they are as nothing compared with the 


i54 


DR. TUPPY 


obloquy, the shame, the reproach with which you 
have besmirched your name to-night.” 

Tuppy looked at the speaker with a dazed sur- 
prise. 

“These, I know, are strong terms to employ, but 
are they not justifiable in the case of one who com- 
mits the atrocious solecism, the unspeakable vul- 
garity of wearing A made-up tie?” 

The four pirates wagged their heads and mur- 
mured “'Shame !” 

“Not only a made-up tie, but a made-up tie of 
silk ” 

“Horrible, most horrible,” said Mr. Tucker. 

“A made-up tie of silk with satin spots, and every 
spot a stigma and disgrace.” The whole Committee 
groaned aloud. 

“Does not such a one wantonly expose his Hos- 
pital to ridicule, and exhibit himself to the world as 
a bounder and a snob?” 

Throughout this long ordeal of misrepresentation 
and invective, Tuppy had been struggling with the 
horrible conviction that he was going mad. If he 
could only awake and find it all a nightmare. The 
sole thought that had sustained him was the belief 
that he was meeting injustice with the dignity of a 
Christian martyr, that he was carrying himself with 
the distinction of a gentleman. 

When, at the concluding words of Sir William’s 
peroration, he gave a downward glance and saw his 
wretched tie, with unsewn ends, sprawling like a 
small octopus on his shirt, one long tentacle attached 
to his neck, another reaching down towards the 


DR. TUPPY 


155 


floor, he realized that so far from being the picture 
of a martyr and a gentleman, he looked indeed a 
bounder and a fool. His cup of bitterness had long 
been full, at this it overflowed. His heart turned 
sick, tears of vexation started to his eyes, the 
figures before him grew blurred and dim, his knees 
tottered : — 

“Porter, give Mr. Tuppy a chair." 

“You'd better call the last round, I think," 
whispered Mr. Tucker to the Chairman. Sir 
William nodded. 

“Now, Mr. Tuppy," he proceeded in his most 
dulcet tones, “neither I nor my colleagues wish to 
dwell upon matters which are quite as painful to 
us as they can be to you. We shall deal mercifully 
with your moral delinquencies, grave and reprehen- 
sible as they are, provided you can satisfy us as to 
your professional efficiency, and answer to our satis- 
faction the questions we are about to submit." If 
this was the commencement of what Mr. Tucker 
called “the last round," it had come too late in the 
evening's programme. Tuppy was practically 
knocked out already. He leaned back limply in 
his chair, pale, dazed, staring before him with 
vacant eyes. 

“Now, sir," began Sir William, “will you kindly 
describe to me the figures of St. Vitus’ dance?" 

Tuppy passed his hand over his brow. There was 
something wrong with the question, or something 
wrong with his brain. 

“Figures, Sir William," he asked with apologetic 
trepidation, “surely you mean symptoms." 


156 


DR. TUPPY 


Sir William glanced at his colleagues and tapped 
his head significantly. “Very sad,” he remarked 
in a stage whisper, “evidently there is some slight 
aberration.” Then he smiled encouragingly at his 
victim. 

“The figures of St. Vitus’, sir, if you please. We 
have never heard of the symptoms of a dance.” 
Then Tuppy realized that he was mad indeed. He 
buried his face in his hands and groaned aloud. 

“Now, sir,” said Mr. Tucker briskly, as if he 
feared the game might be over before he had taken 
a hand in it. “Tell me this. A healthy heart weigh- 
ing ten ounces, what would be its weight if its owner 
were in love?” But Tuppy made no attempt to 
answer ; he leaned back helplessly in his chair, his 
lips silently framing the words “I’m mad, I’m mad, 
I’m mad.” 

“Now tell me this,” continued Sir William; 
“What is the funny bone? is it really a bone? is it 
really funny? is it funnier than the humerus? and 
if so, why?” 

“I’m mad, I’m mad, I’m mad,” still muttered 
Tuppy to himself. At this juncture Sir James 
Chudleigh, who throughout the proceedings had 
never spoken a sound, scribbled a line on a piece of 
paper and passed it on to Mr. Tucker. Mr. Tucker 
smiled and placed it in his pocket. 

“Now, Mr. Tuppy,” he said, “we’ll have the dose 
of Belladonna.” Tuppy looked up. Here was a 
question his reason seemed to grasp. “And then 
of Bella Jessop,” continued Mr. Tucker with a leer. 
Bellajessop! Tuppy could swear he had never 


DR. TUPPY 157 

heard of the drug before, and yet its name seemed 
as familiar to him as his own. 

“Pm mad/’ he muttered to himself again, “Pm 
mad.” 

“Porter,” said Sir William, “perhaps Mr. Tuppy 
will do better with these printed questions. Give 
them to him with pen, ink and paper.” 

Tuppy became conscious of the fact that a small 
table was placed in front of him. He made another 
effort to clear his brain. He had always lost his 
head in oral examinations, a written one would be a 
fairer test of his mental condition. He would have 
time to think. He applied his nose to one of the 
papers set before him and read the questions line 
by line with care. And as he read, his suspicion 
that his brain had given way became conviction, the 
conviction a certainty. He thrust the paper into his 
pocket and took the other. Yes, this was madness. 
To him the questions seemed grotesque, chimerical, 
evasive. He could not grasp their meaning. It 
tortured him to read them. How horrible was 
this early stage of madness, when the mind was 
clear enough to see the mists gathering around it, 
the brain conscious enough to know its growing 
weakness. How long could he disguise his con- 
dition from Aunt Eleanor, how would she first per- 
ceive it ? At the very thought the cold sweat 
gathered on his brow. What were those voices 
buzzing round him? Could he sign his name? 
Oh, yes, he was sane enough for that, but how his 
hand trembled! Where was the ink? What a 
huge fantastic inkpot! How did it open? He 


DR. TUPPY 


158 

fumbled round it with nervous fingers. There was 
the sharp snap of a spring, the lid flew open, the 
inkpot bounded into the air like a bursting shell, 
belching its contents over Tuppy’s face, blinding his 
eyes, pouring down his neck, drenching his shirt, 
sousing his waistcoat, soaking him indeed to the 
skin. His tortured, distracted nerves could bear 
no more. He hurled the table to the ground, 
kicked over his chair, flung the porter out of the way 
and dashed into the ante-room. His coat and hat — 
where were they? He had left them here. They 
had gone, not a trace of them was to be seen. No 
matter, he would go without them, he would leave 
that Hell behind him even if he had no clothes at all. 
He fled into the darkness of the landing, then 
groped his way to the wall. Here was the staircase ; 
now he could distinguish the outline of the windows, 
and his eyes grew accustomed to the half-light. He 
crept quickly down the stairs, partly seeing his 
way, partly guiding himself by the banisters. 
Here was the entrance hall; he stumbled through 
the darkness and reached the door. A turn of the 
key and it was open. His heart leapt with joy 
as he felt the cool evening air blowing on his face. 
Suddenly he drew back. Close by him, in the 
twilight of the Square, he could distinguish groups 
of men laughing and talking. The students were 
having their after-dinner smoke. What was to be 
done? A Committee of devils was behind him, the 
deep sea in front. He would hide and let the 
Devil pass, and escape when the sea had parted its 
waters and opened a way. He closed the door 


DR. TUPPY 


159 


silently, and listened. Yes, they were coming. A 
match was struck on the landing above, there was 
a murmur of voices, the echo of footsteps on the 
stairs. Where should he hide? Why, here, in the 
library, of course. Through its folding glass doors 
he could see the interior dimly lighted by the lamps 
in the street beyond. Just in time. The swinging 
doors made no sound as he slipped through them. 
Then he crouched and listened. Had they seen 
him enter? No, he could hear the clattering of 
feet, the echo of laughter, the bang of a heavy door. 
Then, there was silence. He waited a minute; not 
a sound, except the thumping of his heart against his 
ribs. The building was deserted. When would 
it be safe to venture forth? It was almost dark 
now. The Hospital clock clanged out the hour. 
Only eight. Could it be possible? He would take 
another peep into the Square. He crept quietly 
from the library and groped his way towards the 
entrance. Here it was at last. Where was the 
key? Gone! Pie turned the handle and pulled. 
Turned it the other way and pulled again. The 
door was locked. Tuppy’s heart stood still. He 
was caught like a rat in a trap. He would be found 
there in the morning. In dress clothes, covered 
with ink. The thought maddened him. He would 
gain his liberty or die in the attempt — but how? 
He knew the building well. There was no escape 
from the basement. On the ground floor where he 
stood, the windows were high above his head. 
From the first floor there would be a drop of thirty 
feet. There was a single chance — the roof. He 


i6o 


DR. TUPPY 


scrambled again up the stone staircase. The 
lamps in the Square had been lighted, and, here and 
there, threw yellow patches on the walls. He 
reached the third floor, then paused to get his breath. 
What a height the building was! Upwards again, 
past the museum on the third floor, upwards to the 
fifth ! Only one more flight of stone steps and then 
he would reach the spiral iron staircase that opened 
on to the leads. Here he was at last. He slid 
back the iron bolt, and stepped panting on to the 
roof. How sweet to breathe the cool evening air, 
to feel its freshness on his brow! The great city 
with its countless lights lay murmuring at his 
feet; before him in the distance towered St. Paul's 
in all her silent majesty and stately grace; below, he 
could distinguish the students, the size of pigmies, 
still strolling round the Hospital Square. 

And now, what was to be done ? On the left lay 
the arched roof of the Great Hall. No escape that 
way! But, on the right, he remembered the iron 
steps that led on to the roof of the old school 
buildings some twenty feet below. He crept along 
behind the parapet, picking his way carefully. 
Yes, here was the end of the new block, and here the 
spiral stairs. He reached the bottom. This felt 
like earth again. A large, flat, leaded area protected 
by a stone balustrade. He tripped along it lightly, 
tripped — and fell. What the devil was it ? A 
small roll of sheet lead and a couple of old planks. 
He cursed the carelessness of the British workman, 
and proceeded with greater care. Where was that 
trap-door he remembered? Ah, here it was at 


DR. TUPPY 


161 


last. Now for a pull, a strong pull, a long — pheugh 
— no good, it was bolted below. Surely there was 
an iron ladder leading from the roof in case of fire. 
He searched along the parapet. Not a trace of one! 
He peered out into the darkness. Why could he no 
longer see the Square? What was that roof just 
level with him and only a dozen feet away ? He had 
lost his bearings, but how? Then he guessed. He 
had. turned a right angle. He was now on the roof 
of the old school. Just at the back of the West 
block of the hospital. “Mary block/’ as he called it. 
Surely, the second row of lights below him opposite 
must be Mary Ward. His heart thumped at the 
thought. Mary Ward close to him, in front of his 
very eyes, and yet beyond his reach! Suddenly a 
desperate thought leapt to his brain. He peered 
into the yawning chasm that gaped between him 
and liberty. Why should he not cross it? Here 
were the means at hand; the wooden planks that 
had tripped him up. Was it madness to dream 
of it? Perhaps it was madness, but there was 
method in it. It gave him a chance of escape. 
Would it not be madness also to stay where he was 
and to meet, on the morrow, exposure, ridicule, dis- 
grace? Yes! he would do it. He ran to fetch the 
boards, his brain on fire. How heavy they were, 
he must take them separately. And now to get them 
in position. He lifted one over the stone balustrade 
and stood it vertically on the projecting cornice 
beneath. Would it reach to the other side? He 
could but try. If it slipped, there was only an empty 
rubbish yard below. He lowered it gently, until the 


DR. TUPPY 


162 

leverage of its weight tore it from his hand. It 
dropped with a clatter on the cornice opposite. 
Good. Now for the other. How curious! That 
fell with quite a different sound. But they were in 
position. He climbed over the balustrade, stood on 
the brink a moment, and then bent down on his 
hands and knees. He fixed his eyes on the boards, 
trying to keep from his consciousness the black 
depths on either side into which he dare not look. 
Now forward a few inches with the right hand! 
Now with the right knee! Now with the left 
hand! Now with the left knee! How his heart 
thumped against his ribs! Forward again! That 
was better. Once again! Now, he was well over 
the abyss. There was no going back this journey, 
so forward again! The boards began to bend be- 
neath his weight. He must be nearing the middle. 
Forward a few more inches! What was that little 
creaking sound ? He dare not pause to think. 
Forward again! There was that sound again, but 
louder. Forward again ! A slight snap ! The left 
board sank two inches and lost its spring. He near- 
ly flung up his arms to grasp the air. He dare not 
advance. He could not go back. He could feel the 
plank yielding almost imperceptibly beneath his 
weight. He leaned desperately towards the right. 
Still the left plank yielded ; slowly but surely. The 
hair stiffened on his scalp, the sweat poured from 
his face, his whole body seemed covered with 
myriads of creeping things. Suddenly a sharp 
crack. Great God! he was falling! With a frantic 
clutch he flung his arms and legs round the remain- 


DR. TUPPY 


163 

in g support. Just in time. He could hear the other 
crash into the yard below. The plank beneath him 
swayed up and down in mid-air, like a living thing 
trying to dislodge its burden. He clung to it with 
the frenzy of despair. But it was of good fibre; 
it yielded, but not to break; slowly it returned to a 
position of rest. Tuppy dragged himself forward 
again, his eyes tightly closed, his breath coming in 
short gasps. What was that? the touch of stone 
at last! Another moment, and he had grasped the 
balustrade, climbed over it, and drenched with 
perspiration, sunk panting on the roof. Thank God, 
he was alive and safe. The rest was easy. He 
made his way to the sky-light over the main stairs. 
Not a sound was to be heard. Then he climbed 
through, feet first, slid down the ropes and dropped 
quietly on the floor below. In a few seconds he 
had opened the front door of Mary Ward and 
peeped in. The lights were down, a solitary Nurse 
was reading at a table, her back towards him. He 
slipped across to Sister Mary’s room ; the door was 
open, but the curtain drawn. He tapped on the 
wainscot and waited. 

"Yes,” said a voice, inquiringly. 

"It’s Mr. Tuppy, Sister. May I come in? I 
want to see you particularly.” 

"Come in, Mr. Tuppy, by all means.” 

Tuppy entered. Sister Mary drew in her breath 
with a sharp cry. 

"Great God!” she exclaimed, "what has hap- 
pened? What is the matter?” 


164 


DR. TUPPY 


Tuppy reeled like a drunken man, the reaction 
was too much for him. 

“I want your help/’ he answered wildly, “Pm ill. 
I think Pm going mad,” and before she had time 
to save him, he had fallen to the floor in a dead 
faint 


CHAPTER XI 


“Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind.” 

A Midsummer Night's Dream. 

I T may have been telepathy, or it may have been 
coincidence, but it is a fact that during the 
evening Sister Mary’s thoughts had constantly 
reverted to Mr. Tuppy and his affairs. She was 
thinking of him at the moment that he knocked. 
And yet, if he had not taken the precaution of an- 
nouncing his name, it is probable that she would 
have failed to recognize him, and it is certain that in 
her terror she would have screamed aloud. For her 
visitor, with his torn and grimy evening dress, his 
collar limp as a rag, his shirt stained and crushed, 
his hair dishevelled, his haggard face besmeared 
with ink, presented an appearance that might have 
startled a person of even stronger nerve. It was 
only the sudden loss of Tuppy’s senses that restored 
to Sister Mary the full possession of her own. From 
that moment, she was no longer an apprehensive 
hostess embarrassed with an aberrant guest, but a 
Nurse who was called upon to administer First Aid. 
The professional instinct asserted itself, she had no 
time to be afraid, her attention was centred in the 
treatment of her patient. In a few minutes her 
165 


DR. TUPPY 


1 66 

promptness was rewarded. The colour returned to 
Tuppy’s lips, he opened his eyes and became con- 
scious of his environment. 

“I’m all right now,” he said, looking up into 
Sister Mary’s face. 

“Yes, you’re all right, Mr. Tuppy. But you 
had better lie still for a few minutes. You are 
my patient, you know, and must do as you’re told.” 

“Yes, Sister.” 

She put her finger on his wrist. “Have you had 
any food lately?” she asked after a pause. 

“No, Sister.” 

“Could you take any soup if I brought it to 
you?” 

“Yes, Sister.” 

“Will you promise not to move until I come back 
to you ?” 

“Yes, Sister.” 

The fact was that Tuppy had no desire to move. 
He felt like a tempest-tossed mariner who had 
reached port at last. A delicious sense of peace and 
quiescence filled his being. The storm clouds had 
passed from his brain and left his senses clear and 
calm. He remembered everything. He realized 
that he had fainted. He knew that Sister Mary 
was looking after him. He felt sufficiently weak to 
accept the attention, sufficiently strong to appreciate 
the luxury of it. 

“Try a little of this, Mr. Tuppy, you’ll find it 
good.” 

Tuppy tried a little and found it extremely good, 
so good indeed that he required no persuasion 


DR. TUPPY 


167 

to try a little more. In a couple of minutes he 
had emptied the plate, heaved a deep sigh of con- 
tent, and expressed his gratitude with an expansive 
smile. 

“Now, Sister, I think you can discharge me as a 
patient ; perhaps you'll accept me for a few minutes 
as a visitor. I need your help." 

“Sit there, Mr. Tuppy"; she placed an arm-chair 
by the open window. 

“Now, tell me everything, 5 ' she continued, pick- 
ing up her knitting, “and take your time, there's 
nearly an hour before I shall have to ask you to 
go” 

So Tuppy took his time and began at the begin- 
ning, starting from the unhappy moment when he 
had opened and read the letter of the Good Dis- 
cipline Committee in the Hospital Square. The 
Little Sister sat and listened attentively, making 
no comment except an occasional exclamation or a 
significant pause in her work. 

“And now tell me, Sister," exclaimed Tuppy at 
the conclusion of his recital. “What do you think 
has happened to my brain ? Ought I to take advice, 
am I in a condition to return home?" 

She looked at her visitor with amused surprise. 

“Really I should laugh, Mr. Tuppy, if you weren't 
so serious yourself. To my mind you have given 
a very graphic and lucid account of a very extra- 
ordinary evening. I see no signs whatever of 
mental aberration." 

“But why couldn't I answer their examination 
papers?" replied Tuppy woefully — “I couldn't even 


DR. TUPPY 


1 68 

understand them. By Jove — I beg your pardon, 
Sister — but Pve just remembered. IVe got one of 
them here.” He grabbed the paper out of his coat 
pocket, and thrust it in her hands. “Now, you look 
at it,” he continued feverishly, “and tell me what 
you think ! The questions conveyed nothing to me. 
They must be silly, or I am.” 

She looked at the Examination paper for a minute 
and then put it down with a laugh. 

“You needn't be alarmed. The questions are 
silly, not you.” He stared at her incredulously. 

“Look at them again, Mr. Tuppy, now that you're 
calm and collected. If one of your fellow-dressers 
asked you such questions, what would you think of 
him, what would you say?” 

“Well, I should probably think he was trying to 
be funny, and I might possibly say ‘Oh, don't be an 
ass. 

“Oh, how I wish you had said that to-night.” 

“Good Heavens! to the Good Discipline Com- 
mittee. Why they'd have run me out of the Hos- 
pital at once.” Sister Mary folded her knitting and 
drove the needles into the ball of wool. 

“My dear Mr. Tuppy,” she said, laying aside her 
work with some deliberation, “don't you see that 
your Good Discipline Committee was really a Com- 
mittee of your colleagues and fellow-dressers, that, 
in a word, you have been the victim of a huge 
practical joke?” 

“But Sir James Chudleigh?” 

“Oh, any one could imitate Sir James. Get a 
beard like Father Christmas and there you are.” 


DR. TUPPY 


169 


“And Sir William Fell?” 

“Was probably impersonated by Mr. Oscar Smith. 
Fve heard him imitate Sir William's voice. You 
couldn't tell the one from the other.” 

“And Mr. Tucker?” 

“No doubt Mr. James Mason. An equally good 
imitation.” 

“But I tell you, Sister, it was Mr. Tucker's coat. 
I could swear to it.” 

“I'm sure it was Mr. Tucker's coat. We looked 
for it at half-past six and it was missing. But I'm 
equally sure it was not Mr. Tucker.” 

“Why?” 

“Because Mr. Tucker telephoned to me from 
Harley Street at seven. There can be no possible 
doubt as to the truth of what I say, Mr. Tuppy. 
Your brain's clear enough. You’ve been the sub- 
ject of a hoax.” 

Tuppy leaned back in his chair and covered his 
eyes with his hand. There was silence for a while. 
Sister Mary picked up her knitting and went on 
with her work, throwing a furtive glance towards 
her guest from time to time. 

“Please don’t be so unhappy about it, Mr. 
Tuppy,” she said at last. “It was a mean, despicable 
trick, and is really beneath your contempt.” 

He flung his arms apart with a helpless gesture of 
despair. 

“What have I done,” he cried, his voice vi- 
brating with suppressed passion, “what have I done 
that men should hate me so? I run straight. I play 
the game, I try to be just and considerate. I don't 


170 


DR. TUPPY 


spend my time in trying to injure others, why 
should others conspire, and plot, and plant to injure 
me ?” 

Sister Mary’s needles moved rapidly to the meas- 
ure of her busy thoughts. In what way should she 
answer the young man’s question ? She could 
hardly tell him that his credulity and ingenuous 
artlessness made him a natural butt for the ma- 
licious, that the fatuous good-nature and simplicity 
of his facial expression would lead the undiscrimi- 
nating to dismiss him as a fool. She felt, too, that 
there was another factor in the case. His persecu- 
tion had been so persistent, so systematic. He was 
far from being unpopular. The inclination to rag 
him would have died ere this a natural death, if it 
had not been fed and stimulated by some vindictive 
mind. 

“Have you wounded any one’s vanity?” she 
asked; “that is the unforgivable offence.” 

Tuppy was not conscious of it. 

“I wonder,” she continued tentatively, “I wonder 
what part Mr. Baxter played in that performance 
to-night.” 

Tuppy clutched the arm of his chair and sat 
erect. 

“Baxter! Dick Baxter!” 

“Sir James Chudleigh’s seems to have been a 
silent part. He could have played that safely and 
well.” 

“Dick Baxter! Don’t you know that Dick’s my 
friend ? Why, he’d rather put his hand in the mud 
than touch an affair like this !” 


DR. TUPPY 171 

The knitting needles flew apace and clicked im- 
patiently. 

“Fd never believe that Dick was false unless he 
owned it himself, or it was proved in his own hand- 
writing.” Tuppy leaned back in his chair and 
sighed dejectedly. “It’s hard enough to think that 
Oscar Smith may have been concerned. I’m fond 
of the Gollywog, although we had a slight ” 

Sister Mary seemed to drop a stitch; when she 
looked up she was smiling. 

“A slight difference of opinion ?” she asked. 

“Yes, and perhaps I expressed myself too strong- 
ly, but I thought he had forgiven me.” 

“Well, Mr. Tuppy, whoever the practical jokers 
were, you have beaten them in one respect. You’ve 
got out of the School without being seen. Now I 
understand why the Square was so full to-night.” 

“You think they were watching for me.” 

“Some of them were, I am sure, and to-morrow 
morning, when the School is opened, they’ll watch 
for yoi again, like sportsmen, save the mark! 
round a pigeon trap, but the bird will have flown.” 

“It’s rather difficult to fly in these feathers,” said 
Tuppy, wkh a rueful glance at his shirt front, “the 
police will run me in if I walk through the streets 
like this.” 

“I’ll go over to the College myself and get Mr. 
Murray to lend you a hat and coat. But first of all 
let us see what a scrubbing brush and some lemon 
juice will do for your face and hands. Wait a 
moment, I’ll fetch a basin of water.” 


172 


DR. TUPPY 


But a basin thrice filled with water did not 
succeed in removing the stains entirely. 

“I’ve never seen lemon juice fail before,” said the 
Little Sister, “there’s something in these stains 
besides ink. Why not run away to the country for 
a few days, Mr. Tuppy? Pm afraid these marks 
may show to-morrow.” 

“Run away? No, that’s what they’d like me to 
do. I’ll stay and face the music.” 

“Perhaps you’re right. Just put your cuffs out 
of sight, fix this clean handkerchief over your shirt 
and look at yourself in the glass. Now you’re quite 
presentable.” Tuppy beamed at himself in the 
over-mantel. 

“Fit to be presented to the Queen,” he laughed. 

“I’m glad you say that, for I’m rather expecting 
her.” 

“The Queen, oh, you mean the Matron. Well, I 
hope she won’t come in here when she’s making her 
rounds.” 

When Tuppy was left to himself he leaned his 
elbows on the mantelpiece and contemplated his 
image in the mirror above it, with an absorbed and 
coldly critical stare. There was a nasty stain on 
his neck, but it could be concealed with a very high 
collar ; that recalcitrant lock of hair should have its 
way for once, and be utilized in covering the spot 
on his forehead; as for the smudge on his cheek, 
when he got home he would remove it with pumice 
stone, and if he removed the skin too, would not a 
cool dressing of Calamine lotion make it all right 
by the morning? 


DR. TUPPY 


173 


“Well, you’re uglier now than ever,” he re- 
marked, addressing himself in the glass, “but I 
would rather a thousand times have had it done to 
me than be one of the bounders who did it.” Who 
could be at the bottom of it all, who was the prime 
mover? Surely because of a fair fight and a fair 
beating the Gollywog would not stoop to so dastard- 
ly a revenge ! And what an ass, he, Tuppy, had been, 
what a silly ass, not to have discovered the trick. 
He could recall a hundred anomalies that would 
have tried the credulity of a babe, but he, fool that 
he was, had accepted them all without suspicion. 
It never could have happened, he told himself, if his 
health had been normal. But since the day that she 
had dismissed him, here in this very room, he had 
never been himself. That day he had meant to tell 
her that he loved her. He could recall the scene 
now, he could remember every word she had said, 
“You might have knocked, Mr. Tuppy, I can’t bear 
to be startled. Besides, at the door of Sister’s room 
it surely would be more polite.” He had been cut 
to the quick. “You’ll never get on in practice,” she 
had continued, “if you frighten your patients like 
that.” How vain had been his explanations! “Of 
course, somebody else is to blame. It’s always 
the way with men.” And so, he had never opened 
his heart, had never told his story. At the memory 
of his bitterness Tuppy buried his face in his arms 
on the mantelpiece and groaned aloud. He felt 
a touch upon his elbow. 

“Mr. Tuppy!” 

“Nurse Jessop!” She was standing by his side 


174 


DR. TUPPY 


looking up at him with her old smile, with the old 
roguish look. A wave of happiness swept over him. 
How absurd it seemed to quarrel ; why had he ever 
taken her temper seriously, why had he not laughed 
her out of it? She had been a foolish girl, 
that’s all. The temptation to tease her now was 
irresistible. 

“You might have knocked, Nurse,” he said with 
feigned petulance, “I can’t bear to be startled. Be- 
sides, at the door of Sister’s room it surely would be 
more polite.” The joke did not reach her. Her 
face fell. She started back. 

“Oh, Mr. Tuppy, how can you?” 

“You’ll never get on as a private nurse,” he con- 
tinued in the same tone, “if you frighten your 
patients like that.” 

“Sister Mary told me not to knock,” she answered 
indignantly. Suddenly her face lightened as she 
grasped the situation. Then, with laughter in her 
voice but with tears in her eyes, she stretched out 
both her hands to him impetuously. “Ah! Mr. 
Tuppy, forgive me, forgive me. I came to tell 
you how sorry I am. I’ll never be bad to you 
again.” He took her hands in his and drew her 
towards the light, gazing into her face with kindling 
eyes. 

“Sit here,” he said. “I want to look at you. I 
haven’t seen you for so long.” 

“Why, Mr. Tuppy, you saw me this morn- 
ing.” 

“No, not you. I saw one Nurse Jessop, the Staff 
Nurse of Mary Ward, whom all the Hospital knows, 


DR. TUPPY 


175 


but I did not see ” he paused. Perhaps in 

seeking her love he might lose her friendship. In 
shaping his course for open waters he might wreck 
his hopes in the narrows. 

“You did not see — what, Mr. Tuppy?” 

“This morning I did not see, I have not seen for 
weeks, my pal — Bella.” 

She drew her hands from his. He felt he was 
sailing in the shallows. 

“Perhaps,” she answered, “perhaps she has been 
ashamed to show her face.” 

“But why?” 

“I cannot tell you.” 

“Have you been ashamed because you were so 
angry ?” 

“No, I was angry because I was ashamed.” 

“But why?” 

“Perhaps I can tell you — some day. And the 
day on which I can tell you will be the happiest 
in my life.” 

He could not solve the riddle. 

“Some day is never,” he answered, “some day 
our friendship may be broken.” 

“Oh, I hope not,” she exclaimed earnestly, “never 
through me.” Surely he could dare to cross the bar 
at last. 

“There is something I want to s-say to you, 
s-s-something I had meant to s-s-say the day that 
you were ill.” In the suppressed tumult of his 
emotions his old impediment returned to him. He 
clenched his hands together as if to steady himself, 
and spoke in a dry measured monotone. 


176 


DR. TUPPY 


“You once t-t-told me I needed some one to look 
after me and offered to be that p-person.” 

“I have tried, Mr. Tuppy.” 

“Yes, but I w-want you to help me altogether/’ 
stammered Tuppy, trying desperately to steer a 
straight course through troubled waters, “yes, alto- 
gether, always, until death us do part. I know 
it is an audacious thing to ask. To ask you to tie 
yourself to a f-fool, a fool who cannot even sp-speak 
plainly, a fool at whom the world laughs. And I 
have nothing to g-give you in return, because, in 
love there is no giving, everything I have is yours. 
And if you care for me a little, then you have 
nothing to take, for in love there is no taking. But 
I w-would not have you c-come to me for pity’s 
sake. Come to me only if — but it is impossible, im- 
possible.” Tuppy buried his face in his hands, 
feeling his ship was about to strike, and his hopes 
to be wrecked for ever. And the grandfather clock 
ticked loudly; “Wait, wait,” it said, “Wait, wait”; 
for the little Nurse was speechless for once, because 
of the lump in her throat. She could only smile 
through her tears at the ivory Sphinx on the mantel- 
piece, but the Sphinx preserved an inscrutable gaze 
and merely smiled in return, whilst the china dog 
with the knowing look kept a watchful eye on both. 
They knew so well what she wanted to say, but 
alas ! could not help her to say it. 

“I told you,” she began at last, “I told you I was 
angry because I was ashamed. Now I can tell you 
why I was ashamed.” Tuppy uncovered his eyes. 


DR. TUPPY 177 

Whatever his fate might be he would meet it like a 
man. 

“You remember the day I had the headache; do 
you know what gave it me?” 

“Sister told me you had been awake all night.” 

“Did she tell you why?” 

“No.” 

“Because I thought that you were dying, that 
possibly you might be dead.” 

“Dead!” 

“That’s what they said in the Hospital.” 

“And you cared!” exclaimed Tuppy, feeling his 
ship give a bound over the waters. 

“Wait,” she answered. “I lay awake all night, 
thinking of you, praying for you. In the morning, 
there was no news. I wanted to telegraph to your 
mother. Sister wouldn’t let me. I felt too ill to 
work, my head throbbed. Sister tucked me up on 
her couch. As I lay here alone,” she placed a shy 
hand on Tuppy’s, “as I lay here alone, my heart 
told me a secret I had never guessed, and when I 
heard it I knew that it was true. It was one of those 
tremendous secrets that you have to share at once 
with somebody else. And so,” she laughed gaily 
through her tears, “I told it to the ivory Sphinx 
there on the mantelpiece, I told it to the little china 
dog, I cried it aloud to Sister’s household gods. 
Come nearer, Charlie, close your eyes, don’t look 
at me, I will whisper it to you.” Tuppy did as he 
was bid, and a sob of joy rose in his throat as he 
heard the wondrous words : “Charlie, I love you. 
Charlie, I love you. Charlie, I love you.” 


178 


DR. TUPPY 


Over the bar at last, out to the open sea, to sail 
with his queen clasped in his arms on the boundless 
ocean of love. And the Sphinx on the mantelpiece 
smiled, and the china dog almost succeeded in wag- 
ging its tail, whilst the grandfather clock gave a 
friendly hint by warningly striking ten. The little 
Nurse was the first to come down to earth. 

“Sister will be back directly,” she said, drying her 
eyes and disengaging herself from her lover’s arms. 
“Now you know why I was ashamed, Charlie. I 
suppose I ought to be ashamed as it is, but Pm not.” 

“Pm not ashamed,” said Tuppy boldly, “and Pm 
the happiest man alive.” 

“And I am the happiest girl.” For the first time 
in his life he dared to touch that wondrous halo of 
golden hair. 

“Promise me one thing, Bella,” he lifted her face 
to his and gazed into the depths of her eyes, “if 
ever doubts should enter your mind, if ever you 
should want your freedom back, come to me and 
tell me. I am your knight, you are my lady. But 
alas, I am not a knight of whom you can be proud. 
I am not a knight out of the story books, with flow- 
ing locks, of dazzling beauty and majestic mien. I 
am not handsome, I am not clever, I am not rich. I 
am little better than a fool. In a place like this, 
where every one knows his neighbour’s business bet- 
ter than his own, your loyalty will be tried. Come 
to me and tell me if you find it cannot stand the 
test.” She took his hand in hers. 

“Dear,” she said, “I need not promise that. My 
only doubt is that I am worthy of you. I would 


DR. TUPPY 


179 


not have you altered in one single thing. To me 
you are beautiful for you are brave and kind, to 
me you are clever for you are good and wise, to 
me you are rich because you have a heart of gold. ,, 


CHAPTER XII 


“And dar’st thou then 
To beard the lion in his den, 
The Douglas in his hall 


Walter Scott. 


HE next morning Tuppy was up betimes. A 



1 peaceful night of happy dreams had been 
punctuated by moments of wakefulness, when he 
had turned over with a suppressed “Hooray,” or a 
smothered exclamation of “By Jove, I am a lucky 
man.” It was not until he had caught sight of 
his face in the glass, that he recalled the less ecstatic 
and less momentous events of the previous evening. 
In his present exalted mood he could afford to laugh 
at them. What did they matter, what did anything 
matter, as long as he had Bella by his side? Had 
he not won his spurs, had not his lady made him her 
knight? Had not his life been transformed by the 
touch of the wand of a fairy Princess ? Was it not 
for him to shape it in the future after the lofty 
ideals of a fairy prince? And if, as he frankly 
confessed to himself, when, shaving brush in hand, 
he critically contemplated his reflection in the 
mirror, he had no suggestions of a Princely form, 
was not that all the more reason for cultivating a 


180 


DR. TUPPY 


181 


princely character. Even a Prince might Have 
some regard for his appearance, so Tuppy threw 
another glance at himself with a view to improving 
his own. Pie would be compelled, it was obvious, 
to have recourse to that brand of very high collar 
which he had long since abandoned, partly because 
of its extreme discomfort, and partly because a 
candid fellow-student had informed him that it gave 
him the aspect of a donkey smiling over a gate. 
When he had completed his toilet, and, instead of 
struggling as usual with that vagrant lock of hair, 
had allowed it to lie where it listed on his forehead, 
his sense of humour made him bound to admit the 
aptness of his colleague’s comparison. But this did 
not matter as long as the stains were concealed. 
The smudges on his cheeks had proved to be more 
superficial. Pumice stone had removed them, 
and left a heightened colour in their place. He 
possessed a lavender waistcoat of a somewhat 
startling appearance, which he thought might serve 
to distract the attention of observers from the 
unwonted glow of his complexion. Altogether, it 
is not surprising that Mortimer commented to Mrs. 
Champion, the housekeeper, not only on the re- 
markably early hour at which Master Charles had 
taken his breakfast, but also on the remarkable 
smartness of Master Charles’ attire. 

“I ’aven’t seen him use one of those collars for 
months,” said Mortimer, “and he ’asn’t wore that 
waistcoat since Miss Manson was married. He 
can’t be going to a wedding at seven in the 
morning.” 


DR. TUPPY 


182 

As a matter of fact, Tuppy had got up with the 
sun simply because he was too happy to lie in bed; 
he had asked for his breakfast early for the prosaic 
reason that after yesterday’s abstinence he was un- 
usually hungry, and he went out immediately, 
because he was too full of restless delight to remain 
in the house. But he had no sooner strolled across 
the road into the Park than he was seized with a 
brilliant idea, which he determined to put into 
execution at once. He would beard the lion in his 
den, he would face the Canon in his study ; was not 
the hour propitious, was he not primed for the 
attack ? Flushed with triumph, exalted with Love’s 
victory, buoyant with hope, when could he find a 
better time than now to encounter paternal prejudice 
and disarm paternal opposition ? This was an hour, 
too, at which the Canon could be found and taken 
by surprise, and at which, even if he wished, he 
could not seek a refuge in retreat. For, at eight 
o’clock precisely the worthy Rector entered his 
study, and was at home to all comers who might 
desire to consult him on matters temporal or 
spiritual. There was no difficulty in obtaining ad- 
mission, there was no occasion to ring the bell, and, 
indeed, those who were rash enough to do so would 
find the chance of their respective suits much 
prejudiced by the proceeding. Frequenters of Co- 
vent Garden will remember that the old red-brick 
rectory, instead of being flat-fronted like an ordi- 
nary house, presents somewhat the aspect of a W, 
or of the half-opened panels of a four-leaved screen. 
Whether this device was designed by the architect 


DR. TUPPY 


183 


to gain more light or merely to achieve the pictur- 
esque it is for the experts to decide. Its charm to 
the Canon lay in the fact that it enabled him, whilst 
sitting at his study table, to command a complete 
survey of the bell-pull, which hung in modest 
retirement in a receding angle of the edifice and 
tremblingly peeped at him through the leaves of the 
Virginian creeper. Tuppy knew that, if he stood 
on the front steps of the Rectory and merely closed 
the gate, he would see the Canon frowning at him 
through the window with a cold surprise, or beam- 
ing at him with a genial smile. There was the rub ! 
What would be his mood ? The Canon was a good 
and kindly soul, a scholar and a gentleman, but 
Nature had marred him with an irritable tempera- 
ment and eccentric ways. As the Rectory cook 
declared, “Master was all right when you knowed 
him, but you had to know him fust.” It must be 
admitted that most of the poor of the Parish got 
to know him, and learned that a sharp rebuke, 
however well deserved, was always softened with a 
subsequent half-crown. In fact, when handled with 
a little tact and not exposed to contradiction, the 
Canon’s irritable moods would quickly pass, leaving 
him the most urbane and suave of men. Tuppy 
loved his father as much as any one can love the 
person of whom he has learned to be afraid. But 
the memories of childhood never left him. The 
dreary hours in the Canon’s study, during which the 
Classics, for which he had no aptitude, were 
slippered into him in vain; the fear and trembling 
with which he crept about the house when the Canon 


184 


DR. TUPPY 


was at work ; the bitter tears he shed in secret when 
the Canon, with ill-judged humour, had twitted him 
with having Aunt Maria’s mouth. And so, as he 
stood on the Rectory steps in search of a father’s 
blessing, he felt like a child whose filial love is 
tempered with filial fear. 

“Well, Charles, what is it?” said the Canon 
holding the front door ajar, and protruding two 
fingers through the aperture. 

With any less momentous object for his visit, 
Tuppy would have abandoned the attack and 
waited for a more propitious day. But with spurs 
just won, clad in the armour of invulnerable hope, 
to leave the field without tilting a lance in honour 
of his lady seemed a craven and unknightly 
thing. 

“I’ve brought a few flowers for mother,” he 
replied, politely proffering the bunch of pink 
Malmaisons he had purchased on his way. The 
manoeuvre was successful. To receive the flowers 
the Canon had to open up the portals and admit 
his visitor within the citadel. 

“What, what, what,” he exclaimed querulously. 
“Flowers, what do you want with flowers? Too 
many flowers in the house already. They smell 
the place out. Put them down there.” 

Tuppy put them down, first drawing out a single 
bloom, which he placed in the lappel of his coat. 
His lady’s first gift had been a pink Malmaison, to 
him it was a gage d’amour, and stood for Bella. 
The Canon wiped his spectacles impatiently. 

“Anything else, Charles, eh?” 


DR. TUPPY 


185 

“Well, sir,” replied Tuppy in his most courteous 
and respectful manner, “if you could spare me a few 
minutes I sh-sh-should like to consult you.” 

“Eh, what, what, what? Consult me? What 
the deuce do you want to consult me about ?” 

Tuppy glanced towards the study. The front 
hall, with an open door, seemed hardly the best 
place for private conversation. The Canon took 
the hint. 

“Come in, Charles, come in. It seems to me that 
the time has arrived when I ought to be able to 
consult you. Not that I should follow your advice. 
You’d only make me worse than I was. ‘ TEgrescit - 
que medendo,’ as Virgil says. How many years are 
we to wait before you’re legally qualified to kill ?” 

It was the kind of joke that used to get on 
Tuppy’s nerves when he was young, but he wel- 
comed it now as an indication that the Canon’s 
mood was softening. 

“Now, Charles, what is it, eh?” 

“Well, sir, to b-begin at the b-b-beginning. I 
b-b-believe it was agreed, when I went to live 
with Aunt Eleanor, that you should ch-choose my 
profession and c-c-control my ” 

“You chose your own profession, Charles, and 
being a stupid fellow naturally chose the worst one. 
I’d rather be a butcher than a surgeon. But,” added 
the Canon, chuckling at his own wit, “I dare say 
you’ll combine the two, eh, Charles?” 

Tuppy gave a sepulchral laugh and mentally 
thanked God he had not inherited his father’s pecul- 
iar sense of humour. 


1 86 


DR. TUPPY 


“Perhaps I may, sir, but it’s too late now to talk 
about my profession. What I am w-w-wanting 
to c-c-consult you about is my m-m-marriage.” 

“Your what, sir?” roared the Canon. 

“M-m-my m-m-marriage.” 

The reverend gentleman removed his glasses 
from his nose with some deliberation, leaned back 
in his chair, and tapped the table with his finger 
tips. 

“The boy’s mad,” he said succinctly. 

“I was not aware,” replied Tuppy, waxing bold 
as he inhaled the perfume of his pink Malmaison, 
“I was not aware that the contemplation of mar- 
riage was one of the premonitory symptoms of 
lunacy.” 

“Eh, what, what, what? Don’t be impertinent, 
Charles. You can come and talk to me about your 
marriage when you’re grown up.” 

“I am grown up, sir.” 

“You are not grown up, Charles, you’re a boy, a 
chit, a baby.” 

“But I am grown up, father,” persisted Tuppy, 
with gentle obstinacy, “I’m twenty-seven.” 

“Don’t contradict me, sir,” shouted the Canon, 
banging the table with his fist. “I will not be con- 
tradicted in my own house. If I am to be contra- 
dicted, then this conversation must end at once. I 
say you are not grown up.” 

The irascible gentleman paused to see if his 
challenge would be accepted. But Tuppy remained 
silent, seeking comfort in his pink Malmaison. 
In such a cause as this he was prepared to stoop to 


DR. TUPPY 187 

conquer. Mollified by the submission, his father 
continued in more moderate tones. 

“If you were a hundred and twenty-seven instead 
of twenty-seven, I should still say you were not 
grown up. You’re a child, an infant, a baby.” 

“I know Pm rather stupid, father, and wanting 
in many ways. I’ve told her all that. I’ve kept 
nothing from her.” 

“Kept nothing from her? How the deuce could 
you keep anything from her, even if you tried? 
Why of course the girl sees you’re a ninny and 
wants to marry you for your money.” 

“Bella doesn’t know I have a penny piece in the 
world,” retorted Tuppy hotly. 

“Eh, what, what, what? Bella? Is that her 
name ? You’ll never marry a Bella with my consent, 
that’s quite certain. It sounds like a Music Hall 
Artiste. What is her surname?” 

“Jessop.” 

“Jessop? Bella Jessop! How extremely ple- 
beian! Who is she? Where did you meet her? 
Is she a friend of your Aunt’s?” 

“No, sir, Aunt Eleanor doesn’t know her. I came 
to you first.” 

“Quite right, Charles, quite right. You’re a 
fool, of course, but you can’t help it, and you have 
learnt how to behave. Who is her father?” 

Tuppy didn’t know. He hadn’t inquired. He 
had gathered vaguely, he said, that Bella was an 
orphan and had no relatives alive, except an uncle 
in Canada with whom she did not correspond. She 
was, in fact, alone in the world. 


DR. TUPPY 


1 88 

“Where did you meet her, Charles, with whom 
does she live, how does she live, has she means of 
her own ?” But the Canon did not wait for a reply. 
“Confound those brats !” he cried, suddenly bound- 
ing out of his chair and crossing the room, “they 
are the curse of my life. Go away, you children, go 
away. This is not a playground, but a public 
thoroughfare. If you must play out of doors, go 
and play in the next street/’ He closed the window 
with a bang, and returned to his seat. “I shall 
have to make another complaint at Bow Street. 
They promised to keep an officer always on duty. 
Well, why don’t you answer my questions, Charles, 
instead of sitting there like a numskull ?” 

Tuppy knew that to plead absence of opportunity 
would only add fuel to the fire. He had been 
calculating in his mind as to how many generations 
of children his father had harangued from the self- 
same window in the selfsame words. 

“Has she means of her own?” repeated the 
Canon ; “that’s what I want to know, how does she 
live?” 

“She earns her own living, sir, she’s a Nurse.” 

“A nurse! A nurse! And do you mean to tell 
me, Charles, that you have the impudence, the 
bare-faced effrontery, the imbecility to ask me 
seriously to give my consent to your marrying 
a nurse? A woman whose accomplishments are 
confined to a capacity for washing babies and push- 
ing perambulators, a woman ” 

“Bella is a Hospital Nurse,” interrupted Tuppy 
quietly. 


DR. TUPPY 


189 


“Just as bad,” rejoined the Canon. “I don’t 
believe any decent-minded woman can become a 
Hospital Nurse. They come from the servant 
class, and take up Hospital life to better their 
position and to hook gudgeons like you.” 

If Tuppy had not remembered that in reality 
he was a Prince, he would have made a very un- 
princely reply. He buried his nose in the pink 
Malmaison. 

“I think, father,” he said after a pause, “you’ll 
find upon inquiry that most of the Nurses at the 
Hospital are ladies; certainly most of the ‘guinea- 
pigs’.” 

“Most of the What!” exclaimed the Canon. 

“I beg your pardon — most of the paying pn> 
bationers — we call them ‘guinea-pigs’ because 
they pay a guinea a week for their training, and 
live in ‘the guinea-pig’s Home’.” 

“I wish you wouldn’t talk slang, Charles. Well, 
this woman, this Miss What-you-call-it, is she” — 
the colloquialism escaped him in his temper — “Is 
she a guinea-pig?” 

Tuppy was compelled to admit she was not. 

“Well, guinea-pig or no guinea-pig, Charles, I 
won’t give my consent to your marrying a nurse, so 
there’s an end of it. There will be time enough for 
you to think of marrying ten years hence, and when 
you do marry you must marry a lady.” 

Tuppy was about to reply, when the Canon 
bounded out of his chair. 

“Bless my soul,” he cried, “there’s the postman, 
and he’s going to ring the bell.” He rushed across 


DR. TUPPY 


190 

the room and rapped loudly on the window pane. 
“Don’t ring, sir, don’t ring, put the letters in the 
box.” 

But it was too late, the deed had been committed, 
the guilty bell-handle still swung upon its trembling 
chain behind the creeper; its living accomplice, the 
postman, stood on the doorstep fearless and un- 
abashed. 

“I’ll report him to the Postmaster-General,” 
continued the outraged gentleman, bursting out of 
his study to the front door. 

“Now what do you mean, sir?” Tuppy could 
hear him saying, “by ringing that bell? Look at 
the door, sir. Can’t you read, sir? Isn’t that 
notice clear enough Tut letters in the box, do not 
ring, close the gate’ ?” 

“Very sorry, sir,” replied the postman, with a 
tolerant smile that indicated a long acquaintance 
with the old gentleman’s vagaries. “Had to ring 
this time, sir. Got a registered letter.” 

“Eh, what, what, what! A registered letter. 
Why didn’t you say so before?” 

Tuppy couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation, 
but he gathered that something else changed hands 
besides the letters, and that compensation for the 
unwarranted attack had been made with the cus- 
tomary tip. 

“This is really delightful,” said the Canon, re- 
turning to. his study with a beaming countenance. 
“Mr. White, the churchwarden, has sent a ten pound 
note for the Christmas Poor’s Fund, and here’s a 
letter from the Bishop. Very good of White, very 


DR. TUPPY 


191 

good indeed. Don’t you think so, Charles, eh, 
what, what, what?” 

Tuppy thought it was extremely good, and 
thanked God inwardly for its most opportune ar- 
rival. 

“And now,” continued the Canon, “let us see 
what the Bishop says. Ha! — good — very good — 
‘I have read your new book with the greatest 
pleasure.’ Do you hear that, Charles? Eh, what, 
what, what? The Bishop has read my new book 
with the greatest pleasure. ‘You have handled a 
difficult subject with the most consummate skill’ — 
consummate skill, are you listening, Charles ? 
A very kind letter, a very kind letter indeed. Quite 
so, quite so, the Bishop is quite right. Now what 
do you think of this, Charles? ‘The loftiness of 
the subject is equalled only by the dignity of the 
treatment.’ A very appreciative letter, very appre- 
ciative indeed, eh, what, what, what?” 

The delighted divine leaned back in his chair, the 
picture of smiling benignity. “And now, my boy,” 
he continued, “to return to the subject we were dis- 
cussing. I need hardly say that your happiness 
is one of the great objects of my life. You know 
that, Charles, don’t you, eh, what, what, what? 
If Miss Jessop is a lady, and in other respects proves 
to be a persona grata, I shall put no obstacles in your 
way. A Hospital Nurse fulfils many useful and 
honourable duties in life, eh, what? But, my dear 
boy, before we come to any conclusion over the 
subject, we must see something of her.” 


1921 


DR. TUPPY 


“Quite so, father ; I thought if you’d allow me to 
bring her one clay to afternoon tea ” 

“Tea, my boy, tea. What’s the good of tea! 
She can get tea any day. No, no, we’ll ask her to 
dinner. We’ll have a dinner party.” 

“But, father ” Tuppy’s heart fell, he knew 

those dinner parties. 

“I say, Charles, we’ll have a dinner party, a 
dinner party of twelve. There’s your mother 
and the three girls, and Miss Jessop. And P 11 ask 
Colonel Wilkins and Sir Julian Cross. I believe 
Sir Julian has an eye on Francesca. It would be 
a capital match, eh, what? And you shall name 
the other lady and the other two men. Now as to a 
date; the sooner the better, eh! Bis dat qni cito 
dat . How will Thursday week suit you, eh, what? 
Very well. Then we’ll say Thursday week.” 

Tuppy thanked the Canon warmly and left the 
Rectory with the feeling that on Thursday week he 
was going to be hanged. 


CHAPTER XIII 


“First catch your hare.” 

A DINNER at the Rectory! Only one of the 
initiated could imagine the possibilities of 
disaster that such a ceremony implied. The Canon 
had a total disregard for the conventions. Meal 
times had ranked among the direst trials of Tuppy’s 
childhood. He could recall his father in a fit of 
parsimonious anger sweeping every napkin from the 
table. These outbursts of eccentricity the members 
of the family found it hard enough to bear when 
they were alone, but, when strangers were present, 
the possibility of their occurrence produced just 
such a sense of restless insecurity as might be caused 
by dining over a barrel of gunpowder. And so, as 
Tuppy strolled along the Embankment city-wards, 
he found himself anticipating the ceremony on 
Thursday week with growing apprehension. He 
was so anxious that Bella should make a good im- 
pression on the Canon, that the Canon should show 
his most gracious side to Bella, so anxious, in a 
word, that everything should go off well. Then, 
there was Sir Julian Cross. This was his first 
dinner at the Rectory. It would be a pity, for 
193 


194 


DR. TUPPY 


Francesca's sake alone, if it should prove to be his 
last. As for Colonel Wilkins, Tuppy frankly 
loathed him. He was an habitue at the Canon's, 
where he divided his spare time between flirting 
with the Misses Tuppy and secretly laughing at his 
host. How he would chuckle to himself as he 
strolled homeward after a fiasco ! 

What allies could Tuppy summon to his side to 
aid him in the coming trial? Well, there was 
Cousin Kate for one. She had such perfect tact 
and savoir faire. Then there was Murray, who had 
known the family since boyhood. Lastly, there was 
dear old Dick Baxter, upon whose sympathy and 
help he knew he could rely. And so, by the time 
the Hospital was reached, he had laid his plans and 
regained his spirits. 

“ You're early this morning, sir," said the porter 
on duty, “I suppose you’ve 'eard about the Dean. 
Not that you’re ever late, Mr. Tuppy. It’s the 
other gentlemen 'e’s after." 

Tuppy's thoughts had flown to Mary Ward and 
Bella. “What Dean?" he asked absent-mindedly, 
“the Dean of St. Paul's?" 

The man laughed; Tuppy was a favourite with 
the porters. “You will have your little joke, Mr. 
Tuppy. No, sir, I'm talking of the School Dean, 
Dr. Ramsay." 

Tuppy had heard nothing even of the School 
Dean and asked for an explanation. 

“Well, sir, it's like this. Dr. Ramsay 'as 'eard 
that some of the Dressers are unpunctual in the 
morning, and 'e means to catch 'em on the 'op. I 


DR. TUPPY 195 

was only told of it myself last night or Pd ’ave 
given ’em the tip.” 

“Well, you can send my cases in at once, Johnson, 
I want to get up to the Wards.” 

Tuppy had learned to bandage rapidly and well, 
an accomplishment which now served him in good 
stead. For the rest, “Go on with the medicine and 
come again in a week’s time,” was advice which 
was easy to give and not hard to follow. By nine 
o’clock Tuppy ’s last patient was dismissed. 

“Will you do any of the other cases, sir?” John- 
son asked, “it’s Mr. Baxter and Mr. Smith what the 
Dean is after. For the last week they’ve never come 
before ’arf past nine.” 

Tuppy would be delighted. 

“Jolly sell for the Dean,” chuckled the porter, 
“ Vs always interfering. ’E got the Clerk of the 
Works the sack only last week.” 

“I’m sorry,” said Tuppy, with whom the Clerk of 
the Works was a favourite, “how was that?” 

“For cheek, sir. Dr. Ramsay wigged him about 
the drains in the East block. ‘Well,’ replied the 
Clerk, ‘when I make a mistake I dig it up and mend 
it; but when you make a mistake it’s buried for 
ever, you don’t dig it up again, and if you did, yer 
couldn’t mend it ’owever much you tried.’ ” 

Tuppy laughed. There was an ill-founded belief 
among the students that Dr. Ramsay’s most correct 
diagnoses were made in the Post-Mortem Room. 

“I’ll take Mr. Baxter’s cases first, Johnson.” 

As a matter of fact, on this particular morning 
Mr. Dick Baxter had commenced his arduous duties 


196 


DR. TUPPY 


at a phenomenally early hour. By half-past eight 
he had not only finished his breakfast, but was hard 
at work, smoking his second pipe. Such was his 
thirst for knowledge, that at a quarter-to-nine he 
could be seen outside the School buildings engaged 
in earnest conversation with his friends Mr. James 
Mason and Mr. Oscar Smith, all of them waiting 
with obvious impatience for the moment when the 
School doors would open and allow them to enter. 
And yet, strangely enough, when the event occurred, 
they did not avail themselves of the opportunity. 
They looked as if they were watching for somebody 
to come out, which, as the porter on duty in the 
Hospital Square commented to himself, was a 
foolish thing to expect in view of the fact that no- 
body had gone in. 

“He’s afraid to show up,” said the Gollywog, 
“perhaps he’s hiding behind the door.” 

“They must have seen a rat,” thought the porter, 
as he watched the men cautiously disappear into the 
building. 

“I’ll watch here,” said Baxter, “whilst you two 
chaps ferret him out. I wouldn’t miss seeing him 
bolt into the Square for a thousand pounds. You’d 
better search the basement first.” 

They searched the basement, they searched the 
Library, they searched the Museum, they searched 
the Class Rooms, they searched every nook and 
corner of the building, but of Tuppy, for he was the 
rat for whom they were seeking, it need hardly be 
said, there was not a trace to be found. Then, 


DR. TUPPY 


197 

breathless and perspiring, they climbed the iron 
staircase to the roof. 

“My God !” exclaimed the Golly wog, who led the 
way, “look at that.” He pointed to the door which 
Tuppy had left open behind him. The two men 
exchanged glances and read each other’s thoughts. 

“He’d never throw himself over,” replied Jimmy 
Mason, “he’s too much of a coward. He’s probably 
hiding somewhere. Let’s get out and look.” 

In the meantime Mr. Dick Baxter was beginning 
to feel uneasy. He had spent the first part of his 
watch in joyous anticipation. He had pictured to 
himself the ridiculous figure that Tuppy would 
present as, driven from his place of hiding, clad in 
evening dress, coatless, hatless and besmeared with 
ink, he rushed into the Square. But when half an 
hour had passed and the minutes still sped by, he 
began to grow impatient, and then alarmed. Could 
anything have happened? Could Tuppy have been 
taken ill ? Had he, through fear or chagrin, wrought 
some desperate deed upon himself? It was nearly 
a quarter-to-ten. Baxter knew he ought to be in 
the Surgery. So ought Mason and the Gollywog. 
Should he desert his post and let the others face the 
racket? He thought he would. He hurried down 
the Schools steps and turned towards the Surgery. 
Great Heavens! Who was this? There was no 
escape — right in front of him — meeting him face to 
face — The Dean! And by his side — Tuppy — as 
large as life ! 

“Ah, Baxter,” exclaimed Dr. Ramsay with a 
laugh, “stole a march on me this morning, eh? 


198 


DR. TUPPY 


finished all your cases before I arrived? Well, Pm 
glad you’ve turned over a new leaf. Nothing like 
punctuality,” and the Dean disappeared into the 
School. 

It had been one of Dick Baxter’s boasts, and 
hitherto it might have been regarded as more or 
less justifiable, that he had never been nonplussed 
and had never known what it was to be taken by 
surprise. But at this particular moment of his life 
his brain fairly reeled. Here was the man he had 
just pictured to himself as cowed, dishevelled, and 
hiding in the Schools in fantastic attire, standing 
before him spotless, smiling and clothed in garments 
that would grace a wedding. 

“I was just looking for you, Dick,” said Tuppy 
affectionately taking his friend by the arm, “come 
and walk round the Square. I’m too jolly happy 
to keep still.” 

Baxter found himself complying like a lamb. 

“You look surprised, Dick,” Tuppy continued 
gaily ; “give me a cigarette and I’ll tell you all about 
it.” 

He marched his dazed colleague round the Quad- 
rangle, punctuating with bursts of laughter his story 
of the Dean’s defeat. Students lolling round the 
fountain, and seated in the shelters, nudged each 
other significantly. This was not the spectacle they 
had been promised to expect. 

“What lies you chaps invent about the missing 
link,” said one; “why, he looks as happy as a king.” 

“They’re not lies,” replied his companion, who 
had played a super’s part in the farce of the previous 


DR. TUPPY 


199 


evening, "but somehow Tuppy always manages to- 
come out on top. If he played golf he would drive 
into every bunker, but his ball would be sure to 
bounce out on the other side. It was just the same 
with the fight.” 

“A good job, too,” was the answer; "it’s time he 
was left alone.” 

Dick Baxter was not unconscious of the fact that 
he and his companion were the cynosure of every 
eye. He had promised the students some fun that 
morning, if they would wait in the Square and 
watch. One rumour was to the effect that Tuppy 
would be seen crossing the Quadrangle completely 
tarred and feathered, another that he was to be 
ducked in the fountain, a third that he had gone 
raving mad and was stalking about in the garb of 
an Indian chief. Some of the men had waited for 
over an hour and were feeling impatient. When, at 
last, Tuppy appeared the picture of health, in spot- 
less attire, and radiant with happiness, they began to 
suspect there was a hitch in the programme. But 
they had come to laugh at something, and as there 
was no show to enjoy, the only thing to do was to 
laugh at the Showman. So they tittered and 
coughed in a meaning way, and made sotto voce 
remarks. “Too much overture!” “Why don't you 
ring up, Dick?” “We want our money back.” 

Tuppy was too engrossed in his story to be con- 
scious of anything else. But Baxter's face grew 
blacker and blacker. 

“I'm going to sit down, Charlie,” he said at 
last. “I'm tired.” He hoped Tuppy would leave 


200 


DR. TUPPY 


him. But no, Tuppy would be delighted to sit down 
too. 

“Here’s an empty shelter, Dick — I want to tell 
you a secret.” He laid his hand impressively on his 
companion’s knee. “I’m the happiest man in the 
world.” 

“Are you?” grunted Baxter surlily, “you don’t 
say so !” 

“The happiest man in the world,” continued 
Tuppy, sublimely unconscious of his friend’s in- 
souciance. “I’m engaged to be married.” 

“Great Scot! Who’s going to be f who’s 

going to marry you ?” 

“Nurse Jessop.” 

“Well, I’m ” Baxter expressed a strong con- 

viction as to his future perdition. 

“Isn’t it splendid, my dear old Dick? Of course 
you must come to the wedding, and be my best 
man.” 

Tuppy proceeded to pour out his heart and to 
babble like a brook. He had loved her ever since 
he had met her, but of course had never dreamed 
that she could return his affection. He had in- 
tended to speak to her weeks ago, but could not 
summon up courage. He probably would never 
have spoken at all, had it not been for the fact, that 
last night Providence seemed to take him by the 
hand and to lead him to her side. And now Para- 
dise was opening before him, all that remained to 
be done was to obtain his father’s consent. Then 
he launched forth into a detailed description of his 
interview with the Canon. 


DR. TUPPY 


201 


Dick Baxter listened to his companion’s rhap- 
sodies with a cynical smile, and gazed at him 
superciliously from under his half-closed lids. How 
he detested this man! How he despised his in- 
genuous simplicity, his fatuous credulity, his smug 
self-satisfaction! He was so saturated with folly 
that it seemed really impossible to prove to him that 
he was a fool. And yet everything had come to him 
that Baxter would have given his ears to possess. 
He was independent of his profession, he was 
heir to a fortune, and now he had won the love of 
a girl by whom Baxter himself had been twice 
refused. 

“And this, my dear Dick,” said Tuppy in conclu- 
sion, “this is where you can help me. I want you 
to come and dine with us at the Rectory on Thurs- 
day week.” 

His companion pricked up his ears. 

“What do you want me to do?” he asked. 

“Just to help us to make things go easily and to 
tide over any contretemps that may occur. You’re 
sympathetic and clever and bright. Just the man 
to keep the ball of conversation rolling in the right 
direction. Besides, you know, perhaps after dinner 
over a glass of port, you might get a chance of 
saying something to the Dad which would be helpful 
in regard to Bella.” 

Dick Baxter gave a chuckle of delight. 

“So I might,” he said, “so I might.” 

“Then you’ll come, Dick? It’s awfully good of 
you.” 

“Yes, I’ll come, Charlie,” and Baxter chuckled 


202 


DR. TUPPY 


again. “By the way, is your nephew still living at 
the Rectory, that mischievous imp you brought up 
the river last year?” 

“You mean Bunnie? Oh, yes, but he won't be 
dining with us.” 

“Do you think he'd like to have tea with me 
here ?” 

“Of course, he’d love it.” 

“Then I'll write and ask him.” 

“You’re really too kind, Dick. Don't let him 
bother you. Now I must get off to the Wards. 
Good-bye.” 

And as if to seal so serious a conversation, Tuppy 
put out his hand. Baxter grasped it and looked 
straight into his companion’s face. 

“Tell me, Charlie,” he said, with a suggestion of 
hesitation in his voice, “what about the Committee 
Meeting last night?” 

“Committee Meeting?” asked Tuppy in surprise, 
“what Committee Meeting?” 

“Why, the Good Discipline Committee,” an- 
swered Baxter, with an oath, “you don't mean to 
say you’ve forgotten it?” 

A light came into Tuppy’s face and he broke into 
a laugh. 

“My dear Dick, I had. I’d clean forgotten 
everything about it. That shows how jolly happy 
I am. Why, it was only a joke, and a poor joke 
at the best; but good luck to the man who de- 
vised it, for it brought me in contact with Bella. 
If you’ll only remind me, I'll tell you about it to- 
morrow.” 


CHAPTER XIV 


“Ao much valour is to be found in feasting as in fighting; 
and some of our city captains and carpet knights will make 
this good, and prove it.” 

Burton, Anatomy of Melancholy. 

“\7" ou look perfectly sweet,” said the Little 
X. Sister. Nurse Jessop blushed. 

“Am I all right at the back?” she inquired, “that 
maid at the Home doesn't know a hook from an 
eye.” 

Sister Mary cast a searching glance over the 
Empire frock from the neck to the waist, and made 
a trifling adjustment. 

“What wonderful Mechlin lace, Bella!” 

“ ‘My lace is my fortune, sir, she said,' ” para- 
phrased Bella in reply. “It was all my mother had 
to leave me. It belonged to my grandmother. I 
have a small drawer full of it.” 

“Now turn round, dear.” Sister Mary stepped 
back and examined her with a critical eye. How 
wonderfully the girl had improved, she thought 
to herself, since she had fallen in love. The corners 
of her mouth no longer tended to droop, all the 
sourness had gone from her face, all the suggestion 
of scorn. The simple black chiffon frock empha- 
203 


204 


DR. TUPPY 


sized the richness of her colouring, and under the 
rays of the electric light her hair looked, indeed, like 
a halo of gold. 

“Oh, Sister, I’ve forgotten my medal, my Maltese 
Cross. I shall have to go back to the Home. ,, 

“It won’t suit this dress like your uniform, dear, 
and if you go back to the Home you’ll be late.” 

“But Charlie made me promise to wear it. He 
wants his mother to see the words at the back — ‘for 
duty well done.’ ” 

Well, if she had promised Mr. Tuppy, Sister 
Mary knew there was nothing else to be said, so she 
kissed her protegee on the cheek and bade her a 
hurried Good-night. 

Bella had intended to put in an early appearance, 
and was annoyed to find, as she was ushered into 
the Rectory drawing-room, that she was apparently 
the last to arrive. Tuppy, with the air of a man 
who was about to be anaesthetized for a possibly 
fatal operation, wrung her hand in silent emotion. 
She had barely time to whisper a hurried “Buck up, 
Charlie,” when a distinguished-looking old man 
with well-cut features, cheeks with the bloom of an 
apple, and exquisite silver hair, came forward to 
greet her. He wore canonical gaiters, and an old- 
fashioned collar with the cravat tied close under 
the chin. She had no occasion for an introduction. 

“How are you ? How are you ?” said the Canon. 
“Very glad to make your acquaintance. Heard 
all about you from Charles. You must come and 
see us often. My girls turn the place into an hotel. 
I call it The Tuppy Arms or Please-drop-Inn.” 


DR. TUPPY 


205 


Bella broke into a girlish, good-natured laugh. 
What a mistaken opinion she had formed of the 
Canon ! 

“Eh! what! what! what! Glad you can appre- 
ciate a joke — more than my girls do. They have 
no sense of humour. Here, you must know my 
wife — Georgie! Georgie! This is Miss Jessop — 
she has some sense of humour — not like Francesca. 
She's the sweetest little woman in the world, Miss 
Jessop — the sweetest little woman in the world — 
but she's dreadfully deaf, and is very quick-tem- 
pered at times." 

Bella looked at Mrs. Tuppy's face, the living pic- 
ture of placid tranquil amiability. They neither 
of them thought it necessary to refer to the fact 
that they had met before. 

“Come and let me introduce you to the girls," 
said Mrs. Tuppy. “I think you have met Fran- 
cesca only. Oh, and here's Mr. Murray, but of 
course you know him at the Hospital." 

“I’ll look after B-b-bella, mother," interrupted 
Tuppy, joining them. “I wish you would g-g-go 
and entertain Sir Julian — he looks b-b-bored to 
death, sitting on that sofa by himself." 

“Mrs. Tuppy should talk Agriculture," remarked 
Murray, “if she wants to make Sir Julian enjoy 
himself." 

“You know him?" asked Tuppy. 

“I believe he's my second cousin," Murray 
laughed, “about six times removed." 

“Thanks for the t-t-tip, I’ll tell Francesca; she's 
‘nuts' on Agriculture." 


206 


DR. TUPPY 


“Your dear old father seems in splendid form,” 
continued Murray, as the Canon’s hearty laugh rang 
through the room. “Who’s that pale chap talking 
to him?” 

“Leering, sneering, b-b-beast,” growled Tuppy; 
“it’s that infernal Wilkins. I bet you he has asked 
my father to tell him his old story of The Quack 
Doctor.’ He does it every time he comes. He 
says he likes p-p-pulling the old man’s leg, ‘cod- 
ding’ him, he calls it. I should like to throw him 
out. By the way, Bob, I wish you’d go and make 
yourself nice to B-b-baxter; I’m afraid you don’t 
like him. I want to introduce Nurse Jessop to 
Cousin Kate.” Cousin Kate was engrossed in earnest 
conversation with Francesca and Constance Tuppy. 

“Charlie,” exclaimed Francesca, “we feel per- 
fectly sure that Bunnie — Bunnie is a young scamp 
of a nephew, Miss Jessop — is up to some mischief 
to-night. It’s too bad when we are so anxious about 
things already. He says he is sure we shall have a 
happy evening. You know, the last time he said 
that, every one sat down on a pin.” 

“I’ll run down and examine the chairs,” said 
Tuppy, “and lock the young beggar up in his room 
if I can find him.” 

Bella hardly needed to exchange a dozen sen- 
tences with Miss Sanders to establish herself on a 
friendly and easy footing. Cousin Kate was suffi- 
ciently inside the domestic circle to be thoroughly 
acquainted with its intricacies and peculiarities, and 
sufficiently outside it to be able to refer to them, 
and to regard them from an impersonal aspect. 


DR. TUPPY 


207 


Bella gathered that there was at times a consider- 
able amount of friction, not only between the 
Canon and the family, but also between the brothers 
and sisters themselves. There was, however, a 
kind of tacit understanding between them, on those 
rare occasions when the Canon broke forth into one 
of his much-dreaded functions, that they ceased 
their internecine warfare and united together in the 
common cause of protecting, as far as possible, 
the reputation for decency and decorum of their 
common hearth. Cousin Kate was always invited 
as an ally, to help to cover, and distract attention 
from, the eccentric actions of the Canon and the 
table catastrophies which kept the junior Tuppys in 
a perpetual condition of nervous alarm. 

“Charlie is the worst of them, ,, continued Miss 
Sanders; “did you see how his lips were twitching? 
An occasion like this is a perfect torment to 
him. ,, 

Bella did not care to betray the fact that she was 
probably more acutely conscious of Charlie's ner- 
vousness than Miss Sanders herself. 

“What a beautiful old man the Canon is!” she 
answered evasively. 

“He’s always been delightful to me, but one can- 
not deny that he is very eccentric. One never 
knows what he will do next. It is the dinner itself 
which is the great trial. I always arm myself with 
some half-dozen good openings to conversation, so 
that I can fire one of them off whenever an awkward 
pause occurs. But I don’t think we shall have to 


208 


DR. TUPPY 


engage the enemy’s attention this evening. I have 
an idea that everything will go off well.” 

Her optimism must have tempted Providence 
irresistibly, for at that moment commenced the 
series of calamities which for ever branded the night 
in Tuppy’s memory as “The Fatal Dinner.” 

“Mr. Percival Hull,” the maid announced. 

Cousin Kate shivered — the Misses Tuppy paled 
perceptibly — Bella herself felt ominously that there 
must be some mistake, as she had counted twelve 
people and was told that the party was complete. 
Her fear became a conviction as Mr. Hull walked 
into the room. He was a stout unctuous parson, 
with long lank black hair falling over his collar. 
Mrs. Tuppy turned a look of inquiry towards her 
husband, a look tempered with as much indignation 
as it was possible for her gentle face to assume. 
The truth was that Mr. Hull had had the good 
fortune to meet the Canon in the street by chance 
that very afternoon, had poured out his usual tale 
of woe, ended with his usual request of a loan of 
five shillings, and received, as a long experience 
had taught him to expect, his usual present of a 
sovereign. 

“If you call in this evening, Fll give you a good 
dinner for once,” the Canon had added good- 
naturedly. 

Mr. Hull was the bete noire of the Tuppy family. 
Some years before, he had been for a short period 
one of the Canon’s curates, and had been removed, 
only at Mrs. Tuppy’s urgent request, on the ground 
that he invariably smelt of whisky. 


DR. TUPPY 


209 


“Yes, my dear,” the Canon replied in answer to 
Mrs. Tuppy’s facial note of interrogation. “I 
asked Mr. Hull to come in this evening. How are 
you, Hull? Glad to see you.” 

Mr. Hull replied that he was as well as the 
Lord ever allowed him to be, and shifted uneasily 
from one foot to another. 

“My dear George,” tremulously, almost tearfully, 
remonstrated Mrs. Tuppy, taking the Canon on one 
side, “don’t you see what you have done? You’ve 
entirely upset the arrangement of the whole table.” 

“Nonsense, my dear, nonsense, why should 
people always go down to dinner in pairs? We’re 
not going into the Ark.” 

“But we shall sit down thirteen,” piteously urged 
Mrs. Tuppy, who had more than a trace of super- 
stition in her nature. “One of us will die before 
the year is out.” 

“Don’t talk nonsense, Georgie. The more the 
merrier. Poor Hull probably hasn’t had a dinner 
for a week. The more the merrier,” continued the 
Canon aloud, “don’t you think so, Sir Julian ? Ah, 
there’s the gong.” 

The soup was served and discussed without any 
untoward incident. The social success of the fish 
was unfortunately marred by the Canon knocking 
over a delicate specimen glass containing a beauti- 
ful and solitary orchid. 

“Mary, come here,” exclaimed the Canon with 
some asperity; “what are these flower things doing 
here?” he continued in an undertone which unfor- 
tunately was audible to every one, “take them all 


210 


DR. TUPPY 


away at once. You know I can't bear flowers on the 
table." 

Mary proceeded to remove all the offending flow- 
ers in the immediate environment of the Canon, 
but was checked by Mrs. Tuppy on approaching the 
other end of the table. Francesca, who had put her- 
self to much trouble over the floral decorations, 
coloured, and bit her lip. 

To break the awkward pause that followed, 
Cousin Kate fired off one of her half-dozen openings 
to conversation, whilst Francesca engaged the atten- 
tion of Sir Julian by asking him a question on an 
agricultural matter. 

But through all this forced conversation, the at- 
tentive ears of the attuned and expectant could catch 
the murmur of the Canon’s whispered protests. 

‘Take all these flowers away, Mary, every man 
Jack of them, and send for William. I insist upon 
having William in the room when we have company. 
I’ve told you so a dozen times before. You and 
Pendle are not sufficient. Do you hear what I say ? 
Am I to be master in my own house or am I not? 
Send for William at once.’’ 

William, the page-boy, after a brief interval, 
appeared, looking very hot and flustered, and the 
Canon gradually subsided and finally beamed all 
round the table. 

“What do you think of the wine, Sir Julian?’’ 

“Excellent, Canon, excellent,’’ but Sir Julian was 
too engrossed in the maze of agricultural argument 
in which Francesca had successfully involved him 
to enter into any other conversation. 


DR. TUPPY 


2 1 1 


The Canon turned his attention to Bella, and 
having terrified her with an inquiry as to her views 
on the Disestablishment of the Church, saved her 
from further embarrassment by propounding his 
own. Luckily he had so much to say on the mat- 
ter that Bella had only to ejaculate, “Yes,” “No,” 
“Indeed!” or “You don’t say so?” at intervals. It 
was in vain that she tried to centre her thoughts 
on a subject of which she knew nothing. Her 
alert mind could not shut out the consciousness 
of all that was passing around her. She could hear 
Charlie hopelessly stammering and longed to fly to 
his rescue. She wondered if Mr. Baxter saw any- 
thing wrong with the candles that he so persist- 
ently glanced at them. She watched Cousin Kate’s 
gallant attempts to keep the conversational ball 
rolling. She found her attention riveted by Mr. 
Hull’s frayed cuffs and puffy hands. She was 
nervously conscious of the presence of William, 
who seemed to plunge about like an elephant behind 
her chair, and to be emulating the clown in the 
circus, whose comic role it is to fuss over everything, 
and to accomplish as little as possible. She could 
hear the boy panting and puffing behind her, and 
could almost feel his hot breath blowing down the 
nape of her neck. She experienced an insane appre- 
hension that William might suddenly conceive it 
to be part of his duty to hit her violently on the back. 
She felt as if another word on the Disestablishment 
of the Church would plunge her into a fit of 
hysteria. 

Suddenly a candle spluttered and went out. This 


212 


DR. TUPPY 


small event suggested a topic of discussion to the 
few who had come to the end of their social re- 
sources. When a second candle went out, and 
Tuppy heroically rose to pinch with his bare fingers 
the hot offensively-smelling wick, the conversation 
on the curious absence of gas or electricity within 
the Rectory walls at once became general. 

“I don’t believe in either of them,” said the 
Canon. “No electric light shall ever darken my 
doors. William, light the candles.” But the 
candles refused to be lighted. The more William, 
with trembling hands, plied them with matches, the 
more they fizzed, and spluttered, and smelt. 
Stranger still, all the other candles, one after the 
other, spluttered and went out too. At this moment 
there was a suppressed burst of laughter on the 
stairs outside. At least Tuppy heard it, the Misses 
Tuppy heard it, and Bella thought she heard a cat 
sneezing. 

“It’s that little cub Bunnie,” growled Tuppy to 
himself. “He deserves a good licking. Here, 
William, bring up some fresh candles and take these 
away.” 

And, indeed, this explanation of the disconcerting 
phenomena afterwards proved to be right. Master 
Bunnie, with a patience and skill that would have 
been commendable in a worthier cause, had care- 
fully bored a passage down to the wick of each 
candle, poured in a few drops of water, and stop- 
pered the hole with wax. The idea may have been 
the outcome of his own ingenuity, or may have 
been inspired, during his afternoon tea at the Hos- 


DR. TUPPY 


213 


pital, by Baxter's recital of some of the tricks of his 
youth. It is certain that Baxter was the only one 
of the Canon's guests who seemed more amused 
than surprised. 

Notwithstanding the heroic attempts of the little 
esoteric band of martyrs, a subtle but pervasive 
sense of tension and uneasiness began to make itself 
felt round the table. The contretemps of the candles 
had put an end to Francesca's conversation with 
Sir Julian, and left poor Mrs. Tuppy silent and 
depressed. The forced hilarity of the girls flickered 
spasmodically. They all felt they were working 
up hill and against the collar. 

On the arrival of the sweets Tuppy began to 
exhibit signs of distress, and having succeeded in 
attracting Murray's attention, commenced a series 
of facial contortions the significance of which the 
latter was unable to grasp. At last, in despair, 
Tuppy scribbled a few words under the shelter of 
the table, and consigned the dance-programme 
on which they were written to William with whis- 
pered instructions. The only fact that William 
clearly grasped was that the delivery of the missive 
was to be as rapid and surreptitious as possible; 
as for whom it was intended he had not the slightest 
idea. His choice fell upon Sir Julian Cross who, 
in the act of putting his glass to his lips, was startled 
by receiving a sharp dig in the ribs and the peremp- 
tory command of, “You're to read this at once." 
The astonished gentleman had commenced in 
audible tones to decipher the message, which began, 
“I would avoid the Swiss pudding," when William, 


214 


DR. TUPPY 


perceiving from Tuppy’ s gesticulations that some- 
thing was wrong, snatched the card from his hands. 
As soon as Murray, whom it eventually reached, 
found a moment to give it a glance, he distinguished 
the words, “I would avoid the Swiss pudding. 
Francesca says the Dad bought it at a local confec- 
tioner’s. Pass this on to Bella.” But Bella had 
already accepted the fateful comestible, which Sir 
Julian had promptly declined, and Murray decided 
that this was an occasion where ignorance was bliss. 
Happily, the episode passed without attracting 
general attention, but there was a moment when it 
was lucky for William that Tuppy was not armed 
with a gun. 

“Come here, Mary,” said the Canon, as the 
maid was serving the savoury. “I will have the 
savouries served hot,” he continued under his 
breath, “take all these plates away! Do you hear 
what I say?” 

Mary cast an appealing glance towards her mis- 
tress, not quite knowing what to do. Poor Mrs. 
Tuppy, being equally at a loss, bit her lip and said 
nothing. Consternation prevailed in the family 
circle again. Nobody seemed able to rise to the 
occasion. 

“William !” exclaimed the Canon aloud, “if Mary 
won’t obey me, perhaps you will. Mary, I give 
you a month’s warning. Take all the savouries 
down to the cook and tell her to serve them up hot.” 

William at first stood paralysed, and then, with 
the dash and speed of a man crossing an open space 
under fire, swept the offending plates off the table, 


DR. TUPPY 


215 


piled them up in his arms, savouries and all, and 
rushed from the room. A loud crash, followed by 
a groan, announced that the plates had failed in 
their destination, and suggested a picture of William 
lying covered with broken china at the bottom of 
the kitchen stairs. It is at least certain that William 
did not make a further appearance during the 
remainder of the evening, nor had any one the 
opportunity of judging of the cook’s capacity in the 
matter of savouries. 

After this little interlude the Canon’s countenance 
began to clear, and he became as urbane and affable 
as he had been in the early period of the evening. 
He felt that he had judiciously asserted himself, 
that he had triumphed, that he had had his own 
way, that he had proved himself to be Master in his 
own house. 

The little band of fighters for the reputation of 
hearth and home seemed completely crushed at last. 
They had been so much upon the rack that they 
believed no further suffering could reach them. 
The Canon, however, in perfect innocence pro- 
ceeded to apply another twist of the screw. Perhaps 
he realized that he had not properly observed les 
convenances , and was determined to atone for the 
omission. 

“Mary!” he said with smiling benignity, just as 
dessert began, “where are the finger-bowls — bring 
the finger-bowls — you really should do things with 
some sense of decency.” 

Now, as a matter of fact (the Canon had for- 
gotten it) some five years before, in a fit of temper, 


2 1 6 


DR. TUPPY 


he had ordered the finger-bowls to be taken off the 
table, and had told Mrs. Tuppy that if they ever 
appeared again, he would throw them, there and 
then, out of the window. Poor Mrs. Tuppy had 
tearfully yielded, and would privately explain to 
her guests the Canon’s idiosyncrasy. This was 
before Mary entered the Rectory service. She was 
a girl brought up from the country, whom Mrs. 
Tuppy had trained herself. The Canon’s appeal for 
decency produced in Mary the air of a person who 
was perfectly unprejudiced on the subject, but who 
was totally ignorant as to how to proceed. She 
looked at Mrs. Tuppy in smiling bewilderment, and 
after a whispered consultation left the room. In a 
few minutes she reappeared with a trayful of finger- 
bowls, which she proceeded, during a deadly silence, 
to place upon the table in the immediate vicinity of 
the Canon. From the expectant and pleased ex- 
pression of her face, Bella judged that she imagined 
the Canon was going to play a tune upon them with 
his fork or to exhibit a conjuring trick. 

“Take them round, Mary, take them round,” said 
the Canon with the air of a man who was doing the 
thing in style. “No it doesn’t matter — we can pass 
them round ourselves.” 

Mary had been carefully educated at the Rectory 
to do what she was told, and no more than she was 
told. On this occasion Mrs. Tuppy had instructed 
her to bring up some glass bowls which were packed 
away in the pantry in straw. Mary would have 
thought it a work of supererogation, almost an 
impertinence, to dust them without permission. 


DR. TUPPY 


217 


Indeed, in her ingenuous desire to please, and in her 
fear that unwittingly she might spoil a game she 
did not understand, she had been laboriously careful 
to bring them upstairs in their native and natural 
condition. The finger-bowls, therefore, as they 
arrived on the table, were covered with dust and 
straw, out of one, indeed, fell a ball of pink tissue 
paper, which had evidently been used in packing 
and which Mary carefully and almost tenderly 
replaced. 

“Now, Mary, where’s the water?” said the 
Canon. 

Mary had again to appeal to her mistress, and 
after another excursion, arrived with a very large 
bedroom can from which she proceeded, still with 
smiling and complacent wonder, to fill the finger- 
bowls to the brim. 

This ceremony was performed during a ghastly 
silence. At every finger-bowl the water seemed to 
gurgle from the can for an eternity. Mrs. Tuppy 
coloured and became absorbed in her plate. Sir 
Julian inspected the ceiling with a critical stare. 
Bella examined her Maltese Cross as if she had 
never seen it before. Murray looked at his watch 
three times in a minute. Cousin Kate closed her 
eyes and groped about in her mind for one of her 
prepared conversational openings. For a thousand 
pounds down, not one of the party could have 
framed a remark. They were stricken with mental 
paralysis. Tuppy’s forehead grew damp, his lips 
twiched spasmodically ; but he was the first to break 


2l8 


DR. TUPPY 


the spell and to turn the tragedy into comedy. His 
finger-bowl, it is true, was the last to be filled. 

“But M-m-mary,” he said, looking up at the maid 
with a whimsical smile, “you’ve f-f-forgotten the 
g-g-gold fish.” 

The party broke up early. The Canon proposed 
a rubber of whist, but Sir Julian had received an 
urgent whip to attend at the House and take part 
in an important division, and Colonel Wilkins was 
longing to get to his Club and unburden his mind of 
the events of the evening. In Nurse Jessop’s early 
departure to the Hospital, both Murray and Tuppy 
found an excuse to retire. Dick Baxter alone 
complied with the Canon’s pressing request to have 
a smoke and a chat in his study. Here, indeed, was 
the chance for which he had waited, a tete-a-tete 
with his host, that might give him an opening, as 
Tuppy himself had suggested, for expressing an 
opinion on the prospective engagement. 

To Dick Baxter the evening had been one of un- 
interrupted enjoyment. He had silently revelled in 
Tuppy’s discomfiture, he had collected a store of 
experiences the narration of which would make his 
companions roar with delight, and in the Canon 
he thought he had discovered a gudgeon whose 
ingenuousness would provide almost as excellent 
sport as Tuppy himself. 

“I’m sorry we couldn’t make up a rubber of whist, 
Mr. Baxter, but what do you say to a game of back- 
gammon ?” 

Baxter would be delighted. He determined to 
let the Canon succeed in backgammoning him, 


DR. TUPPY 


219 


whilst he amused himself by gammoning the Canon. 
“Pm afraid you’re too strong for me, sir,” he re- 
marked after intentionally losing six games in 
succession. 

“Eh, what, what, what! Not at all, Mr. Baxter, 
not at all. The dice have been against you. Per- 
haps you’ll have a whisky and soda.” 

“Well, it’s rather against my principles, Canon,” 
the young man replied, wishing the Gollywog was 
present to appreciate the humour of his remark, 
“but perhaps on this occasion ” 

“And take another cigar.” They drew their 
chairs up to the fire. “I’m glad to see that Charles 
has such an abstemious and sensible friend.” 

“I don’t suppose Charlie could have picked out 
two quieter men at the Hospital than the Gollywog 
and myself.” 

“The Gollywog?” 

“I mean my chum, Oscar Smith. A hard worker, 
sir, a serious thinker, a sound Tory, and a rigid 
Churchman.” 

“I’m delighted to hear it, Mr. Baxter, that is the 
sort of man I want Charles to have for a friend.” 

“I only wish,” continued Baxter, “if I may be 
allowed to say so, that Charles displayed the same 
discrimination in the choice of his female acquaint- 
ances.” The Canon pricked up his ears. 

“Perhaps you can tell me something about this 
Miss Jessop, Mr. Baxter; does she come of good 
stock, is she the kind of young woman that one 
would desire as a daughter-in-law?” 

Baxter blew a ring of smoke into the air, 


220 


DR. TUPPY 


shrugged his shoulders significantly and made no 
reply. 

“Of course I can't expect you to tell tales out of 
school, but there are times when it is more loyal to 
speak than to be silent." 

“Well, sir, I shouldn't think she was a woman of 
many ideas, but Charlie seems to find a lot in 
her." 

“Yes, yes, but ‘ere child res amor esf as Ovid has 
it, eh, what?" 

“Dear old Ovid," murmured Baxter in reply. 

“ ‘Amare et sapere vix Deo concessit / eh, 
what!" 

“Quite so, sir, quite so." Though to what 
“Mary" and “Peary" the worthy Canon referred, 
the young man was at a loss to conceive. 

“And if to love and to be wise is not granted to 
the gods, we can hardly expect it of Charles, eh, 
what ?" 

“Quite so, Canon, quite so." Baxter congratu- 
lated himself on having made an appropriate 
reply. 

“Now, I must confess tc you, Mr. Baxter, that 
in my opinion the young woman's a ninny. I asked 
her her views on the Disestablishment of the 
Church, and she seemed absolutely void of any ideas 
on the subject." 

“You amaze me, Canon." 

“And further than that, sir, she wouldn't listen 
to what / had to say on the subject, although, mark 
you, it is a subject I have carefully studied. Her 
eyes were here, and her eyes were there, but she 


DR. TUPPY 


221 


never looked at me. She was always answering 
‘you don’t say so/ when I had said so, and always 
returning a ‘No’ for a ‘Yes’ or a ‘Yes’ for a ‘No.’ ” 

“Dear, dear! What lost opportunities! And 
you really ask me, Canon, if such an unappreciative 
young woman would make a desirable daughter-in- 
law !” 

“But, my dear Mr. Baxter, you must see that I 
can’t refuse to give my consent because she is stupid 
and frivolous. All my personal instincts are op- 
posed to the match. But I must have definite 
grounds on which to proceed. Now if you can 
assist me in this respect I shall really be extremely 
obliged.” 

Baxter groped about in his mind for a credible 
imputation. He would have slandered Bella with- 
out the slightest compunction, but he realized that 
he might be called upon to make his words good. 
It would be safer, and perhaps quite as effective 
to disparage her forbears, who were fortunately not 
in a position to make a reply. 

"Well, Canon, since you press me, I am sorry to 
say, I believe there is a slight blot on the escutcheon. 
I have been told that Miss Jessop’s mother was the 
daughter of a music-master, and an illegitimate 
child.” 

“I knew there was something wrong,” cried the 
Canon triumphantly. “Blood tells, sir, blood always 
tells. No woman of breeding could ever have 
ignored me as Miss Jessop ignored me to-night.” 

Baxter, having told his lie, proceeded to embellish 
and endorse it with details. Indeed, as his story 


222 


DR. TUPPY 


evolved, he almost began to believe that he was 
speaking the truth. It was long after midnight 
when he took his departure. 

“Pm glad you agree with me,” said the Canon, as 
he said good-bye to him on the doorstep, “a very 
unsuitable match, eh, what? Pm much obliged 
to you for all you have told me. If you discover 
anything further about the young woman I hope 
you will let me know.” 


CHAPTER XV 


“111 blows the wind that profits nobody.” 

Henry VI. 

“/TVHERE’S only one for you Charlie,” said 
X Lady Milner as she sorted the morning’s 
post, “it looks as if it came from your father.” 
Tuppy peered at the envelope, placed it on one side 
and went on with his breakfast. There could be no 
doubt as to the correctness of his Aunt’s surmise, 
the Canon’s cramped hieroglyphics were quite un- 
mistakable. The contents of the letter might prove 
to be of momentous importance, it would be as well 
to come to conclusions with the bacon and eggs 
before spoiling his appetite by good news or by bad. 
Since the occasion of the fatal dinner a fortnight 
ago, he had not set a foot inside the Rectory. With 
the memory of that nightmare still fresh in his mind 
he had experienced no inclination to do so, nor 
indeed would it have been a politic procedure, as the 
Canon had promised to write. 

“Aren’t you going to open your letter, Charlie?” 
Lady Milner inquired when she had concluded the 
sampling of her own correspondence. 

“Directly I’ve finished my breakfast, Aunt 
Eleanor.” 


223 


224 


DR. TUPPY 


“What a funny boy you are. You have no 
curiosity. The fact is, I rather expect there may 
be an enclosure for me.” 

“PI! soon find out that for you,” repeated Tuppy, 
opening the envelope and turning out the contents. 
“No, there is nothing.” 

“Pm disappointed,” continued the old lady. 
“You see, I wrote and asked the Canon if he would 
come out. He always says he's fond of the animals. 
What do you think, Charlie?” 

Tuppy really didn't know what to think. He 
believed his father belonged to the Royal Society 
for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, but there 
were members of the R.S.P.C.A. who approved 
of vivisection, and indeed of hunting, a practice 
which, in Tuppy's opinion, it was equally hard to 
defend. 

“Very much harder,” rejoined Lady Milner^ 
“hunting is a relic of barbarism.” 

“They tell me the foxes enjoy it, Aunt Eleanor, 
but I have never been on sufficiently intimate terms 
with a fox to discover the truth.” 

“The hounds may enjoy it, but they don't know 
better, poor dears.” 

“Naughty bow-wows !” 

“Oh, Charlie, I wish you would be serious.” 

“I feel horribly serious,” replied Tuppy picking 
up his letter. “I've got this to consider. May I 
light a cigarette?” 

But he had deciphered only a few words of the 
Canon's epistle, when the cigarette fell from his 
fingers and lay unheeded on his plate. He read 


DR. TUPPY 


225 


in silence to the end, turned back and read it again. 
Then he leaned his elbow on the table and covered 
his eyes with his hand. The old lady rose from 
her seat, and touched him affectionately on the 
shoulder. 

“You’ve heard bad news, Charlie boy. Is any one 
ill?” 

For answer he passed her the letter, not wishing 
to speak. She read it half aloud to herself in an 
anxious monotone. 

'My dear Charles, — 

I have been thinking over our interview of the 
other morning and I have come to a definite con- 
clusion. In the first place, I am of the opinion, as I 
have already told you, that your mind is at present 
far too immature to justify you in undertaking the 
responsibilities of married life. In the second 
place, although I have nothing to say against the 
young person herself, beyond the fact that she is a 
nurse, I have ascertained upon inquiry that her 
mother was an illegitimate child. When you do 
marry, it is my desire that you marry into a family 
in which there is no blot upon the escutcheon. The 
sins of the parent are, alas ! visited on the children. 
It is the will of God. You must understand that 
my decision is final. 

Your affectionate Father, 

G. C. T. 

P.S. Please tell your Aunt that I am writing 
to her.’ ” 


226 


DR. TUPPY 


Lady Milner threw the letter on the table with a 
gesture of impatience. 

“Come and sit by the window, Charlie, and tell 
me all about it.” 

So Tuppy unburdened his soul of everything that 
had happened concerning Bella, from the time 
he had met her, to the night of the fatal dinner. 

“And why didn’t you tell me of all this before?” 

“I owed you too much already, Aunt Eleanor, to 
worry you about my marriage before getting my 
father’s consent.” Lady Milner bridled. 

“I wouldn’t have you different from what you 
are, Charlie, but really, in some things, you’ve the 
mind of a child. What about my consent ?” 

“When I came of age,” replied Tuppy with a 
trace of embarrassment, “my father t-t-told me you 
had agreed that he should have the f-final word in 
the choice of my profession, and in the sanctioning 
of my m-m-marriage.” 

“Fiddlesticks,” replied the old lady, sharply. “I 
gave in, it is true, about your profession ; but George 
knows perfectly well, I refused to discuss the ques- 
tion of your marriage until the occasion arose. He's 
not in a position to dictate terms to you. I am. 
And a man of your age can refuse, of course, to 
listen to either of us if you wish.” 

Tuppy ’s face brightened. 

“So I can,” he said; “I never thought of that. 
I shall be qualified very soon. Oh, but that would 
be horrible.” 

“What would be horrible?” Tuppy took Lady 
Milner’s hand gently in his own. 


DR. TUPPY 


227 

“To have to do anything, Aunt Eleanor, which 
you did not want me to do.” 

The emotional old lady burst into tears. 

“You couldn’t, dear, you couldn’t. My Charlie 
could never wish to do anything of which I did not 
approve. I know you could never want to marry 
any one but a lady ; a lady in mind, and heart, and 
soul; a lady in taste, a lady in education. I’ve 
been talking like a brute. We do not make terms 
with those we love.” She dried her tears. “Listen, 
Charlie,” she continued; “for some time I have 
known you were in love.” Tuppy opened his 
eyes. “Oh, my dear boy, your thoughts are always 
reflected in your face, as in a mirror. A child could 
read them. Your mind is just clear crystal. 
That is why I took to you when you were little. 
Yes, I knew you were in love, but I thought your 
love was not returned. I ought to have helped you, 
but I did not. I was a vain, selfish, jealous old 
woman. Don’t interrupt me, Charlie. I was vain, 
because I was piqued at your not making me your 
confidante ; selfish, because I feared to lose you; 
jealous, because I could not bear the thought of your 
caring for any one else. And now I must make 
amends. But how?” In her excitement the old 
lady rose from her chair, and paced up and down 
the room, with the light step of a girl. “I don’t 
want you to quarrel with your father,” she went 
on, “I don’t want to quarrel with him myself. I 
am too near the grave to wish to quarrel with any 
one; but this is nonsense,” she tapped the letter 
lying on the breakfast table, “the girl is not re- 


22 8 


DR. TUPPY 


sponsible for the sins of her grandmother. That’s 
not his true reason. Some one has prejudiced him 
against her, mark my words.” 

“I don’t think that’s possible, Aunt Eleanor. 
The only people at the dinner that night, who knew 
her, were friends of mine.” 

“Well, in any case, Charlie, we must be content 
to wait. If he doesn’t change his opinion, I must 
go and see him myself.” 

“Oh, if you only would, Aunt Eleanor.” Lady 
Milner returned to her seat. 

“The practical question is this. When can I see 
your — when can I see Miss Jessop?” She would be 
off duty on the following Sunday, Tuppy replied. 
But, no, that wouldn’t do. Lady Milner would like 
to get the first interview over. Couldn’t Miss 
Jessop come and see her to-day? 

Remembering Sister Mary’s amenability, Tuppy 
thought that this might be possible; and so it was 
finally agreed that he should bring Bella back 
with him from the Hospital for five-o’clock tea. 

Lady Milner’s advancing years seemed to have 
less effect upon her physical activity than upon her 
mental endurance. In her youth, she had been the 
most sociable of women, ever seeking new acquaint- 
ances with eagerness ; in her old age, the expectation 
of a visit from a stranger filled her with nervous 
dread. The thought of meeting Bella made her 
restless and alarmed. It was in vain that she 
applied herself to her daily work, the work of 
writing letters and addressing circulars for the 
propagation of the Gospel of Humanitarianism. 


DR. TUPPY 


229 


The shadow of the coming interview was ever 
present in her mind. At last, as the afternoon wore 
on and her restlessness increased, she closed her 
desk and took her lace-pillow on her lap. She had 
learnt to make lace when she was a girl, it had been 
her pastime ever since. The click of the bobbins 
soothed her as they flew from side to side in her 
skilled hands, keeping pace with the gallop of her 
thoughts. She was angry with herself, she was 
angry with the Canon. George had acted with a 
very high hand, he should have consulted her, he 
was a cantankerous, masterful fellow. She had a 
good mind to show him that she could be masterful, 
too. But she knew what his revenge would be. He 
would refuse to come out. If she were only patient, 
she felt sure that some day she would make him a 
proselyte to the Cause. For the sake of the animals, 
she would submit to the slight and make no re- 
prisals. She was angry with herself, because she 
had been both selfish and jealous. With God's help 
she would school herself in both these respects. 
Charlie had promised never to leave her; that was 
all it was fair either to ask or expect. 

“May we come in, Aunt Eleanor ?” Lady Milner 
started. 

“I must be getting deaf, Charlie. I never heard 
you open the door.” She rose briskly from her 
chair and put out her hand. “And this is Miss 
Jessop? I am glad to see you, my dear.” The old 
lady was nervous, Bella was shy, and it rested with 
Tuppy to keep the conversation alive with a current 
of small talk and commonplaces. It was not, 


230 


DR. TUPPY 


however, until the arrival of tea, and with it, of 
three little persons whom Lady Milner described as 
“the boys,” that the sense of restraint was removed. 
The boys did not know what nervousness meant, 
and after a preliminary sniff at the stranger’s skirt 
they elected promptly, all three of them, to jump on 
the stranger’s lap. 

“What beautiful dogs!” laughed Bella. 

“Don’t let them worry you, dear,” said Lady 
Milner, “they’re beautiful boys, but I’m sorry to 
say they are great invalids. The Toy Poms, you 
know, often are. Roy has spasms, Towzer has fits, 
and Sambo has ” 

“Fleas,” shouted Tuppy who was on the look-out 
for the opening. 

“I won’t have you say that, Charlie,” rejoined the 
old lady, playfully shaking her fist at him. “It’s 
eczema, Miss Jessop, it is indeed.” Then they had 
tea, and the boys, who meant business, displayed 
their accomplishments. Towzer lay dead, with one 
eye on the cake ; Sambo buried his nose in his paws, 
and prayed for sugar with more fervour than a 
Christian ; and Roy, having found a short way over 
the table to the comestibles, was removed from the 
room in disgrace. 

“I should like to call your attention,” said Tuppy, 
“to the contempt with which Mona regards these 
proceedings.” He pointed to the arm-chair in 
which the old skye terrier composedly lay, looking 
out from under her shaggy locks with a gravely 
speculative gaze. 


DR. TUPPY 


231 

“What a dear old dog,” said Bella, “and he’s so 
quiet that I never noticed him.” 

“You really musn’t make these disparaging re- 
marks about Mona. In the first place Mona is not a 
dog but a person; in the second place she belongs 
to what, before the days of the Suffragist, was 
regarded as the gentler sex.” 

Mona was far too comfortable to lift her head 
from her paws, but she condescended to cock one 
of her ears, and to roll her eyes round in the direc- 
tion of her master, as an acknowledgment of the 
fact that she was the subject of discussion. Bella 
went over to the chair and offered the old skye a 
morsel of cake, but she received no other response 
than a few perfunctory wags of the tail. 

“Mona has none of the appetites which make 
for weakness,” said Tuppy. “She is wondering 
in her mind, whether you are offering her that as a 
bribe or a luxury, and in either case she is surprised 
at vour want of intelligence.” 

“She seems a very self-contained little body.” 

“The freshness of youth has given place to the 
dignity of old age. Her muzzle is grey, her eyes are 
getting dim. You must remember that, speaking 
relatively, she is close upon ninety.” 

The young people did most of the laughing and 
talking, Lady Milner most of the thinking, and be- 
fore tea was finished she had come to the conclusion 
that her guest was a lady both by nature and birth. 

“Oh, Lady Milner, what beautiful lace you are 
making,” Bella exclaimed, catching sight of the 


232 


DR. TUPPY 


pillow, “may I look at it? Isn’t it awfully trying 
for the eyes?” 

“That’s what every one asks,” replied the old 
lady, smiling, “but it’s not hard to see a bobbin, you 
know. It isn’t like making needle-point.” 

“I have some lovely V enetian rose-point at home, 
I mean at the Hospital, even finer than this.” 

Lady Milner looked at her in surprise. 

“You are a connoisseur?” she asked. 

“I know something about it,” was the modest 
reply. 

The old lady rose from her chair and held a finger 
to her lips. 

“I’ll show you mine,” she said in a dramatic 
whisper. Tuppy stole quietly from the room. As 
mere man, he stood appalled before the mysteries of 
lace ; he would leave his Aunt and Bella to worship 
at a common shrine. 

“Very few people know much about lace nowa- 
days,” continued Lady Milner, as she unlocked her 
cabinet and spread her treasures on the table; “it 
was different when I was a girl.” Then with the en- 
thusiasm of the expert she dilated on the beauties 
of Mechlin and Honiton, of Guipure and Bruxelles, 
of Gaze de Flandres and Point d’Angleterre, clap- 
ping her hands with delight when she found her 
guest possessed both appreciation and knowledge. 

“Look at these,” she said, laying a pair of cuffs 
on a piece of black velvet to exhibit their delicate 
tracery, “Point de Venise, Sixteenth Century.” 
Bella drew in her breath. 

“How perfectly exquisite !” 


DR. TUPPY 


233 


“There’s a curious story attached to these cuffs/' 
continued the old lady. “Once, when I was attend- 
ing a small soiree in Paris — I was a girl of eighteen 
at the time — the conversation turned upon lace. I 
took one of these cuffs from my sleeve so that the 
guests might examine it. When I came to make 
my adieu# , my cuff was missing. They looked high 
and low, but there was no trace of it to be seen. 
The most assiduous of the searchers was a charming 
young Frenchman, a Monsieur Riviere, who was 
destined for the Priesthood, and who later in life 
became a Monseigneur. 'Mademoiselle Sanders/ 
he said, 'You have all my sympathy. I appreciate 
your loss. I am a collector myself.' Forty years 
later, my eye caught an advertisement in an English 
paper, asking for information as to the whereabouts 
of Miss Eleanor Sanders. I replied to it. In 
return I received this cuff, the one in the mauve 
paper, my dear, and with it a letter from a Made- 
moiselle Riviere. Her brother, the Monseigneur, 
on his deathbed, had made her promise that she 
would seek me out and restore the cuff he had 
stolen. So after forty years' separation the two 
cuffs were united again." 

“How happy they must have felt!" laughed 
Bella. Lady Milner made no reply. Her thoughts 
had gone back to the days of her girlhood, when 
her heart was young and her life was gay. She 
collected her treasures in silence and picked up her 
work with a sigh. 

“Are you fond of nursing?" she asked after a 
pause. 


234 


DR. TUPPY 


“Very.” There was another minute’s silence 
and the bobbins travelled apace. 

“If you were married,” she continued throwing a 
quick glance at her guest, “you would have to give 
up your profession.” 

The colour mounted to Bella’s cheeks. 

“If a woman marries,” she answered imperson- 
ally, “she must do as her husband wishes.” 

“Surely that’s a very old-fashioned idea.” 

“It’s my idea.” 

“I’m glad to hear it,” returned the old lady. 
“We’re glad to hear it,” clicked the bobbins as they 
flew from side to side. 

“Does the sound fidget you ?” 

“I like it, Lady Milner. I like to watch you 
work.” 

Sister Mary had always been Bella’s ideal both 
of a woman and a nurse, and with such an ideal 
before her, the girl could not fail to acquire the 
qualities of restfulness and tact. She had a warm, 
responsive, sympathetic nature, but it was only at 
the sick-bed, under Sister Mary’s guidance, that 
she had learned to appreciate the value of repose. 
Lady Milner had dreaded the interview, fearing her 
nephew’s choice might prove to be a voluble, 
loquacious, self-confident woman, but in Bella she 
found one who was intelligent yet modest, com- 
panionable yet quiet. 

“Tell me, child,” she said, as she paused in her 
work to unroll more thread from the bobbins; “if 
you were wealthy, what would you do with your 
money ?” Bella laughed. 


DR. TUPPY 


235 


“I often go to sleep,” she answered, “building 
castles in the air. My favourite castle is a small 
Convalescent Home, just about thirty miles from 
London, where I could have some of the little 
patients from the Hospital who can't get well in the 
City air.” 

“That would be a good work. What do you 
think it would cost?” 

Bella didn't know. Possibly thousands of pounds, 
but that was the beauty of make-believe, there was 
no need to consider the expense. 

“How many beds would you have?” 

Not more than a dozen, Bella decided, because she 
wouldn’t care to have more than a couple of nurses 
to help hen Nurses were not always easy to man- 
age. As she launched into details, and unfolded the 
Home of her dreams, her eyes grew bright and her 
cheeks glowed with excitement. Then she suddenly 
stopped. She was talking such nonsense. What 
interest could Lady Milner possibly take in her silly 
imaginings. 

“Let's think,” clicked the bobbins, “let's think.” 

“To maintain a dozen beds,” remarked the old 
lady meditatively after a pause, “would require, I 
imagine, nearly ten thousand pounds.” 

Bella opened her eyes; in her game of make- 
believe she never counted the figures. 

“I'll tell you how I know, my dear. I once 
thought of endowing a bed at a Hospital, and the 
Secretary told me it would cost about eight hundred 
pounds.” Then, her thoughts having reverted 
to the channel through which they were accustomed 


236 


DR. TUPPY 


to flow, Lady Milner proceeded to sound her guest 
on her views upon the subject of Humanitarianism, 
and received fairly satisfactory replies. Under 
cross-examination Bella confessed she was not a 
vegetarian. Doubtless, it was unreasonable to eat 
meat whilst one opposed vivisection, but, as Charlie 
remarked, the animals might prefer the person who 
inconsistently attacked them with one hand and pro- 
tected them with the other, to the person who 
logically attacked them with both. 

“I suppose you wouldn't come out , my dear; 
you'd be afraid of the Hospital authorities?" 

Bella asked for an explanation. 

“Would you sign your name to our petition to 
Parliament for the total prohibition of Vivisection?" 

Why, of course, Bella would be delighted. She 
didn't care a fig for the Hospital authorities. In her 
opinion, no Act of Parliament would ever put an 
end to Scientific Research, but, at least, they might 
hope to stop those Demonstrations before Students, 
which some of the young men, as she knew, re- 
garded as absurd and unnecessary. And so, to the 
accompaniment of much clapping of hands on the 
part of the exultant old lady, Bella affixed her name 
to the petition, with all the ceremony appropriate to 
the signing of a document of note. 

“Just arrived, my lady." Lady Milner took the 
letter from the salver and Mortimer retired. 

“Will you excuse me, my dear?" she turned to- 
wards the window and opened the envelope with 
some signs of anxiety. There was silence for a 
minute; then, with an exclamation of disgust, she 


DR. TUPPY 


237 

crushed the letter in her hand, threw it on the 
ground and stamped on it with her foot. 

“Lciche! Infame! Poltroon!” she cried, in 
withering tones that vibrated with passion. “Never 
will I cross his threshold again. Time-server, 
sycophant, who dances a jig to any roulade it may 
please his Lordship the Bishop to fiddle.” She 
shook her fist in the air with a gesture of rage. “I 
wrote to the Canon,” she continued, turning to Bella 
who sat silent and wondering, “to ask him to come 
out. He refuses. I might have forgiven him that.' 
But, at the request of the Bishop, he has actually 
given his name to the Society for the Defence of 
Scientific Research! Mon Dieu ! that I should 
live to see a connection of mine in the enemy's 
camp, a traitor and renegade. I think nothing of 
the Bishops. I despise the clergy, such clergy as 
these.” Lady Milner’s face became distorted with 
passion, the veins standing out on her forehead like 
cords. She paced to and fro in restless agitation, 
shrugging her shoulders and clenching her hands. 
Suddenly she stopped in front of Bella, and gazed 
into her eyes as if she would probe the very depths 
of her soul. 

“You love my Charlie?” she asked. 

“Yes, indeed,” replied the girl with trembling 
lips. 

“You shall marry him, child. I believe you are 

worthy of him, but — but ” Lady Milner’s 

voice faltered and she burst into tears, “don’t take 
him from me, my dear, don’t take him from me. 
He is all that is left to me in the world, let him stay 


238 


DR. TUPPY 


with me to the end.” Bella gently led the trem- 
bling figure to the sofa and soothed her like a 
child. 

“Indeed, dear,” she said with tears in her eyes, 
“Charlie could never leave you, could never be 
happy without you.” 

The old lady framed her quivering lips to make 
a reply, but no sound came from them, a shadow 
passed over her face, her mouth was drawn to one 
side. Bella saw that there was something wrong 
and flew to the door. 

“Charlie,” she cried aloud, “Charlie, come here 
at once. Lady Milner is ill.” Tuppy rushed into 
the room, and found his Aunt lying helpless on 
the couch, her vacant eyes staring unconsciously 
into space. 


CHAPTER XVI 


“Walls have ears.’’ 

W HAT Mortimer didn’t know of affairs in 
the little house in Kensington Gore, as 
a general rule wasn’t worth knowing, but even 
Mortimer was puzzled over present events. Within 
the last three weeks, ever since the day on which 
the young person from the Hospital had arrived 
on the scene, there had been a series of unexpected 
and surprising occurrences. There was no doubt 
whatever that Lady Milner had been taken ill 
during a stormy interview with the young person, 
there was no doubt that when my lady recovered 
consciousness, which she did about an hour after 
the attack, she refused to let the young person out 
of her sight, and there was no doubt that the 
young person had remained in the house ever 
since. The facts were clear, but their interpreta- 
tion was difficult. For the first time in his life, 
Mortimer was conscious of not being allowed to 
share his mistress’s confidence. Further than that, 
it was obvious that certain mysterious proceedings 
were in course of transaction, from a knowledge 
of which he was deliberately barred. After a week’s 
confinement to her room, Lady Milner, in spite of 
239 


240 


DR. TUPPY 


the doctor’s warnings and the remonstrances of 
Master Charles, had proclaimed herself perfectly 
well and insisted upon returning to her ordinary 
daily routine. Then had followed a series of secret 
consultations between my lady and the young per- 
son, or between my lady and Master Charles, or 
between all three of them together; and when my 
lady was resting, Master Charles and the young 
person spent the time in consulting with each 
other. 

“There’s something more in all this, Mrs. Cham- 
pion, than meets the heye,” said Mortimer, as he 
sat and mixed his glass of toddy in the house- 
keeper’s room. It was the butler’s boast that he 
was practically a teetotaller, and drank nothing 
but barley-water, a boast which he generally justi- 
fied. His occasional lapses into stronger potations 
were rather encouraged by the housekeeper, as 
they rendered her somewhat austere and unap- 
proachable colleague more confidential and affable. 

“What I wants to know, Mr. Mortimer, is this. 
Who and what is this Miss Jessop? Phoebe says 
she’s a minx.” 

“We must be just, Mrs. Champion, we must be 
just. We must not be prejudiced by the views of a 
lady’s maid. Phoebe’s nose has, so to speak, been 
put out of joint. No, the young person from the 
Hospital is polite and well-mannered.” 

“Ah, it’s always the way with you men, a bright 
eye and a bit of gold ’air, and you tumbles at their 
feet. I believe she’s a artful hussy.” 

“I don’t think so, Mrs. Champion. Nor yet 


DR. TUPPY 


241 


an adventuress, as I guessed her at first. Mr. 
Charles has 'ad her photo by his bedside for 
weeks.” 

“Oh, Mr. Charles is a simpleton, Mr. Mortimer; 
every one knows that, just the young gentleman 
to be taken in.” 

“What astonishes me,” continued Mortimer, 
ignoring the housekeeper's remark, “is that I've 
never heard Master Charles mention her name. And 
yet my lady and Master Charles always talk before 
me as they would if they were alone.” 

“Of course they do, Mr. Mortimer, they're both 
perfect ladies and act as such.” 

“It's very different, now, Mrs. Champion, I'm 
sorry to say. I hear them and Miss Jessop con- 
versin' 'ammer and tongs when I'm outside the 
door, and when I goes in, there is silence, or they 
talks of the weather.” 

“I tell you what I should do in your place, Mr. 
Mortimer.” 

“What's that, Mrs. Champion?” 

“I shouldn't go in — I should listen.” 

“Me an eavesdropper — Oh, Mrs. Champion!” 

“It ain’t eavesdropping, Mr. Mortimer. It’s 
a duty you owe to your old master, Sir George. 
You may be able to save both my lady and Mas- 
ter Charles from the designs of an artful young 
woman.” 

“Mrs. Champion, mam,” replied the butler, 
whose mood, under the influence of a third glass 
of toddy was changing from the amiable and gar- 
rulous to the dignified and cantankerous, “I regret 


DR. TUPPY 


242 

that you have suggested I should become a heaves- 
dropper. I wish you good-night." 

Mrs. Champion smiled quietly to herself. She 
had dropped the seed into Mr. Mortimer's mind 
and she knew that in time it was sure to bear 
fruit. 

There were two occurrences on the following 
day calculated to excite the butler's curiosity. 
The first was the advent of Lady Milner's confi- 
dential adviser and solicitor, Mr. Weir; the second 
the appearance of a strange gentleman, whose 
card described him as Mr. Robert Atkins, Archi- 
tect and Surveyor. Mr. Atkins arrived at a 
quarter-past-ten and was received in the morning- 
room by Lady Milner with much graciousness, and 
with many expressions of open hostility on the 
part of “the boys." The architect carried under 
his arm a roll of cartridge paper which Mortimer 
judged to be of the nature of drawings or de- 
signs, a surmise which subsequently proved to be 
correct, when, at eleven o'clock, he was summoned 
to deliver Lady Milner's compliments to Miss 
Jessop and a request for her immediate attendance. 
Perhaps it was fortunate that Mortimer busied 
himself in the dining-room, which was separated 
from the morning-room by folding doors only, as, 
at a quarter-past eleven, the morning-room bell 
was impatiently rung. It appeared that one of 
Mr. Robert Atkins’ designs had slipped from the 
others and rolled under the table, where its de- 
tails were at once quietly discussed, and quickly 
devoured by Towzer, Sambo and Roy. Mortimer 


DR. TUPPY 


243 


was requested to remove the offenders and to in- 
struct the footman to collect the debris , a task, 
however, which, for reasons of his own, he elected 
to handle himself. 

Mr. Weir’s visit was presumably timed to 
coincide with Master Charles’ return from the 
Hospital, for the pair arrived on the doorstep to- 
gether, and were closeted with Lady Milner for 
an hour; then Master Charles retired, and Mr. 
Weir remained with her ladyship until after 
dinner-time. Consequently, Mortimer’s evening 
tete-a-tete with Mrs. Champion was delayed until 
ain unusually late hour. 

“You must be tired, Mr. Mortimer,” said the 
housekeeper; “let me mix you something hot with 
a squeeze of lemon in it.” 

Mr. Mortimer accepted the offer with gracious 
condescension. He confessed to being tired, it 
had been a very trying day, his was a very re- 
sponsible position. 

“Light your pipe, Mr. Mortimer. Don’t mind 
me. I like a whiff of tobacco.” 

Mortimer lit his pipe and smoked away in 
silence, with the air of one who ponders deeply over 
weighty matters. Mrs. Champion did not lack 
discretion. She asked no questions. At length 
her patience was rewarded. 

“What would you think, Mrs. Champion,” asked 
her companion, impressively punctuating his ques- 
tion with deliberate pulls at his pipe, “if I were 
to tell you — that within one year — will be erected 


244 


DR. TUPPY 


in this country — a building that will be named — 
'The Tuppy Convalescent , Ome , ? ,, 

"Lor’, Mr. Mortimer, you don’t say so.” 

“I do say so, mam. The Tuppy Convalescent 
’Ome. It will contain twelve cots for children, 
comfortable accommodation for three or four 
nurses, and be in direct communication with a 
commodious private ’ouse.” 

"Well, I never! How did you ” Mrs. 

Champion checked herself. 

"I ’aven’t overheard a word, mam,” continued 
Mortimer, reading the housekeeper’s thought. 
"I’ve simply observed, put two and two together, 
and puzzled the matter out.” He felt proudly 
conscious of speaking the literal truth. With in- 
finite pains he had pieced together such remnants 
of the mutilated plan as had escaped being chewed, 
consumed and buried for ever in the respective 
stomachs of Towzer, Sambo and Roy. 

"You’re a regular Sherlock Holmes, Mr. Morti- 
mer.” 

"I’m observant by nature, mam,” replied the 
butler, puffing complacently at his pipe. There 
were evidently more revelations to come. 

"Mr. Weir called to-day,” he continued after a 
pause. 

"On business, Mr. Mortimer?” 

"On business, Mrs. Champion. It’s the first 
time Mr. Weir has transacted any business with 
her ladyship since the time she adopted Mr. 
Charles and altered her will.” 


DR. TUPPY 


245 

“Has she altered it again ?” asked the house- 
keeper, with an anxious note in her voice. 

“Not in any way to affect you nor me, Mrs. 
Champion. My lady would never go back on her 
word. We may be quite sure of that, but,” Mor- 
timer leaned over towards his companion and 
spoke in a whisper, “it's the Canon.” 

“Canon Tuppy!” 

“Canon Tuppy, Vs out of it.” 

“Lor’, Mr. Mortimer!” 

“My lady has not only left everything to Mas- 
ter Charles, but has settled it direct.” 

“Well, I never.” 

“If her ladyship lives another three years, it 
will save thousands to the estate.” 

“How’s that, Mr. Mortimer?” 

“Why, there won’t be no legacy duty to pay.” 

Flushed by the hot toddy and by the momen- 
tous nature of his revelations, Mortimer wiped the 
perspiration from his brow. 

“Don’t imagine, Mrs. Champion, I’ve been 
eavesdropping. I wouldn’t do no such thing.” 

“Of course not, Mr. Mortimer.” 

“As it’s James’ evening out I had to lay the 
table myself, and them folding doors act just like 
a sounding board.” 

The housekeeper recalled the surprise with 
which James had received permission to take a day 
off, but she discreetly made no comment. From 
the portentous gravity with which the butler was 
unfolding his baccy pouch, she judged there were 
further disclosures to follow. 


246 


DR. TUPPY 


“Let me mix you another glass, Mr. Mortimer/’ 
she said, suiting the action to the word. 

Mortimer neither accepted nor refused the at- 
tention, but continued refilling his pipe with a 
preoccupied air. 

“Master Charles is going away to-morrow, for 
a week’s ’oliday,” he remarked in a tone of tre- 
mendous significance. 

“Is he!” exclaimed the housekeeper, trying to 
echo the suggestive note which she failed to 
understand. 

“And three days later, the young person is going 
back to the ’Ospital.” 

“Is she? I’m glad of that.” 

“But I don’t think she’ll go straight back. 
Somehow, I shouldn’t be surprised if she spent a 
week-end somewhere ‘ong route' as they say in 
Paris.” 

Mrs. Champion laid her crochet work upon her 
knee. “Now, Mr. Mortimer, what do you mean?” 

The butler folded up his baccy pouch with great 
deliberation, threw a cautious glance towards the 
door, beckoned mysteriously to his companion to 
approach her head, and bending forward, whis- 
pered in her ear. 

“Never, Mr. Mortimer, I’ll not believe it.” 

“It’s true, mam, true as death. ‘Of course 
we can’t leave the house together,’ I heard Mr. 
Charles say. Til go down to Bexhill, secure 
rooms at the Sackville Hotel , and return and fetch 
you in three days’ time.’ ” 


DR. TUPPY 


247 

“Well, to be sure! And Mr. Charles such an 
innocent-looking lamb/’ 

“We mustn't blame him, Mrs. Champion. It’s 
the young person what's worked it. You and 
Phoebe were right; she's a minx and an artful 
young hussy." 

Mortimer's prognostications proved absolutely 
correct. On the morrow, Master Charles took his 
departure for the country, and three days later 
the young person had packed her trunks, and ap- 
peared at breakfast arrayed in a perfectly new 
tailor-made travelling dress and a lavender toque 
to match. 

But what Mortimer failed to understand, was 
why my lady hired a brougham from the livery 
stables instead of using her own, and, a fact which 
was still more astonishing, why her ladyship hav- 
ing, with tears in her eyes, presented the young 
person with a bouquet of flowers, actually got 
into the carriage and accompanied her. 

Doctors propose, patients dispose. Mr. John 
Tucker, F.R.S., had intended to pass a quiet Sun- 
day in Harley Street, and at two o'clock to enter- 
tain a few friends at lunch, but, as it happened, 
this responsibility was left to Mrs. Tucker alone. 
Owing to an urgent telegram, and a prospective 
fee of a hundred guineas, two o'clock found Mr. 
Tucker lunching at the Sackville Hotel , Bexhill- 
on-Sea, and, in spite of an excellent menu, cursing 
his fate. Mr. Tucker was fretful, Mr. Tucker was 
bored. It really annoyed him that every one else 


248 


DR. TUPPY 


seemed so cheerful and happy. A young couple 
at a table on the other side of the room quite got 
on his nerves. Such hearty guffaws, such repeated 
ripples of laughter, such a continued effervescence 
of puerile enjoyment! He could not refrain from 
throwing critical glances towards the sprightly and 
light-hearted gentleman, whose very back seemed 
to smile, or from making mental aspersions upon 
his very high collar and prominent ears, beyond 
which he could catch an occasional glimpse of the 
lady’s bright coloured hair. Thank goodness, they 
were making preparations to move, they rose from 
their seats. He was curious to see the faces of 
two people who could be so preposterously happy. 
As they crossed the room to the door, still en- 
tirely engrossed in each other, his knife and fork 
fell from his hands. 

On leaving the Hotel, Mr. Tucker stopped at 
the Office, and ran his eye down the Visitors’ List. 
Amongst the entries of the previous Friday he 
read the names “Mr. and Mrs. Charles Theophilus 
Tuppy.” 

“Well, I’m ” He checked himself suddenly 

and lit a cigar. “What on earth are the students 
and nurses coming' to?” he remarked to him- 
self as he walked down the steps of the Hotel; 
“this is certainly a case for the Good Discipline 
Committee.” 


CHAPTER XVII 


“Lit era script a manet ” 

* A LETTER for you, sir, marked 'official/ it’s 
/l been waiting since yesterday/’ said the 
porter, as Tuppy entered the Surgery on his re- 
turn from his holiday. The words had a strangely 
familiar sound, the large blue envelope a strangely 
familiar look. Tuppy felt vaguely that he had 
been through a similar experience, either in this 
world or in another. It seemed to him, that on 
the previous occasion, he had thrust the letter into 
his pocket and had gone on with his work. He 
did it again, in fact there was nothing else to be 
done. He had to get through his cases, to dispose 
of the accumulation of patients who, much to the 
porter’s amusement, had refused to be treated by 
his colleagues, and who, morning after morning, 
had returned in the hope of being seen by their 
own doctor, "the young doctor what smiles.” 
And so, it was not until the Surgery work was 
done, and he was crossing the Square on the way 
to the Wards, that he thought of the letter again. 
Surely, this was just how it happened before, and 
here was the very shelter in which he had formerly 
sat. It was really quite disconcerting, this eerie 
249 


250 


DR. TUPPY 


sensation of fulfilling a preordained destiny, this 
indefinable prescience of trouble to come. He 
would light a cigarette to compose himself. Why, 
this was a thing, too, which he had done on that 
other occasion; yes, it had been an occasion, he 
remembered it now; it was when he received the 
letter from the pseudo Good Discipline Committee, 
when he had been made the victim of a con- 
temptible trick. He felt as if he held an envelope 
in his hand which might prove to be infected with 
the taint of the plague. But it had to be dealt 
with, and at once. It was marked “Immediate.” 
It might be perfectly innocent, it might really be 
as official as it looked; it might refer, indeed, to 
the Prize Essay Competition for the result of 
which he had waited so long. So without further 
hesitation he opened it and read — 

“Good Discipline Committee.” 

“To-morrow, Tuesday, the 18th, inst., Mr. 
Charles Theophilus Tuppy is requested to attend 
a meeting of the Good Discipline Committee, to 
be held in Committee Room No. 2, at 6 p.m. pre- 
cisely. Entrance by the door to Great Hall.” 

It was at this point, that Tuppy’s present and 
prior experiences began to diverge. He remem- 
bered that he had read his former communication 
with amazement and horror, this one he regarded 
with unmeasured contempt. He remembered that 
at this juncture upon the previous occasion, dear 
old Dick had interrupted his thoughts with a chaf- 


DR. TUPPY 


251 


fing remark. He looked round the Quadrangle, 
half expecting that, by a strange coincidence, his 
friend might appear. But Baxter was not to be 
seen. He was almost relieved, for he had already 
made up his mind as to whom it would be best to 
consult — the one who had rescued him from his 
previous dilemma, the one he was learning to know 
as his truest of friends. 

“Can I speak to you, Sister?” he said, a few 
minutes later, as he knocked at the entrance of 
Sister Mary's room. The curtain was drawn on 
one side. 

“Come in, Mr. Tuppy. I thought it was you. 
Why, it seems years since — since we met, doesn't 
it?” She had seen him only a few days before, but 
she looked at him inquiringly, as if expecting to 
find some subtle and indescribable change. 

“Can I talk to you, Sister? Can you spare me 
ten minutes?” 

“To be very exact, Mr. Tuppy, I can spare you 
twenty, and then I shall be at the beck and call 
of the Surgeons. But what is the matter, dear 
friend? I may call you that, mayn't I? I feel, 
now, that you're a kind of connection, through 
Bella.” 

Tuppy grasped her hand. “Thank you,” he said, 
“it is because I know you are my friend that I 
come to you. I want your advice.” 

“Sit down, Mr. Tuppy.” 

“I have never properly thanked you,” he con- 
tinued, taking his favourite seat in the window 
recess, “for getting Bella permission to stay with 


252 


DR. TUPPY 


my Aunt, for packing and sending her clothes, 
and for arranging dozens of matters I should have 
muddled myself. I wish I could show you my 
gratitude.” 

“You can, Mr. Tuppy,” replied the Little Sister, 
with a smile, “by giving me the opportunity of try- 
ing to help you again. What is the trouble?” 

Tuppy drew forth the letter from his pocket, 
handling it as an object that would be better held 
by the tongs. 

“Look at that,” was his answer. 

Her mind leapt to every sort of unpleasant con- 
tingency. She glanced at him inquiringly, care- 
fully examined the envelope and opened it with 
suspicious reluctance. Then her face flushed. 

“How dare they?” she exclaimed, “how dare 
they attempt to play such an infamous trick on you 
again?” 

“Well, I s-suppose, Sister, they take me for even 
a bigger f-f-fool than I am.” 

“IPs too bad, Mr. Tuppy, it’s really too bad. 
What do you intend to do?” 

“That’s what I came to consult you about.” 

“Well, let us think over it,” replied Sister Mary, 
picking up her knitting. “I suppose the wisest 
thing would be to treat the letter with contempt, 
and put it in the fire.” 

“And not go?” 

“If you don’t go, they can’t play whatever trick 
they intend to play.” 

“But not to go seems like running away.” 

“Oh, they know you’re not the man to run 


DR. TUPPY 253 

away. If you don't go, they’ll guess you’ve found 
them out.” Tuppy was unconvinced. 

“I should really like,” he replied thoughtfully, 
“I should really like to go through the same ex- 
perience again. I should like to discover what 
new trick they have devised, to stand and listen 
to all that they have to say, to pretend to be taken 
in, and then to make for them, to tear their wigs 
from their heads, their beards from their faces, and 
to know for certain with whom it is that I have 
to deal.” 

“Surely you know that already, Mr. Tuppy. 
There’s Mr. Oscar Smith who plays the part of 
Sir William Fell, Mr. James Mason who plays the 
part of Mr. Tucker, and Mr. Baxter ” 

“Steady on, Sister, steady on, leave Dick’s name 
out of it.” 

“I wish I could, Mr. Tuppy,” she answered 
gravely. 

“You must, if you please. I told you I’d never 
believe that Dick was false, unless he owned it 
himself, or it was proved in his own handwriting.” 

Sister Mary continued her knitting in silence. 

“Do you remember,” she asked after a pause, 
“do you remember describing to me your sham 
examination?” 

“Yes, perfectly.” 

“Do you remember telling me that the man 
who played the part of Sir James Chudleigh never 
spoke a word?” 

“Yes, but that he once scribbled something on 


2 54 


DR. TUPPY 


a piece of paper and passed it on to the supposed 
Mr. Tucker.” 

“Who immediately asked you the dose of Bella- 
donna and then the dose of Bella Jessop?” Tuppy 
flushed at the recollection. 

“Yes, that is so.” 

Sister Mary crossed the room to her bureau, 
took something out of one of the drawers and 
returned to her seat. 

“One day last week,” she continued; “it was 
the day that you went away, as we were going 
round the Wards, Mr. Tucker produced a slip of 
paper out of one of the pockets of his grey frock- 
coat. ‘This isn't mine, Sister,' he said, ‘perhaps 
it belongs to you. I believe you've been wearing 
my coat at a tea-party and left it inside.' I glanced 
at the paper afterwards, and read the words ‘Ask 
him the dose of Belladonna and then of Bella Jes- 
sop.’ Perhaps you would like to see the hand- 
writing, Mr. Tuppy.” 

During Sister Mary’s recital the colour had died 
from Tuppy’s face, his jaw dropped, his parted 
lips twitched spasmodically. 

“Give it to me,” he answered hoarsely, “give it 
to me.” He pored over the paper intently for a 
moment, gave a cry like that of a wounded animal 
and buried his face in his hands. 

The tears came into the Little Sister’s eyes as 
she sat in silence and watched the unhappy man 
struggle to suppress his grief, wounded to the 
quick by the blow which she herself had struck. 

“Please don't, Mr. Tuppy,” she said at last, 


DR. TUPPY 


2 55 

touching him timidly on the knee; “I can’t bear 
to see you so distressed.” 

His hands fell from his face and lay limply at his 
side. 

“It’s too horrible,” he murmured wearily, “it’s 
all too horrible.” 

“I wouldn’t have shown it to you, but I thought 
you ought to be warned. A false friend is more 
dangerous than an open enemy.” 

“You were right to sh-show it me,” Tuppy 
answered, looking again at the slip of paper, 
“nothing else would have convinced me, and it is 
better to know the truth.” He played with it 
nervously in his trembling fingers, twisted it into 
various shapes, finally rolled it into a pellet and 
dropped it on the floor. 

“I just loved Dick,” he continued with a catch 
in his voice; “he seemed to me such a splendid 
fellow, physically and mentally; he had such a 
manly way with him, he’s so tall, and fine and 
strong, s-so different from what I am. He’s al- 
ways been s-so frank, and kind, and generous, and 
helpful. He was my confidant in everything. I 
can’t understand it, it seems incredible. What 
is the meaning of it all?” 

Sister Mary’s nimble fingers were busy with her 
needles, whilst her mind was busy in shaping a 
reply. 

“What have I done?” Tuppy cried, throwing his 
arms wide with a gesture of despair, “that a man 
who is ostensibly my friend should plan, and plot, 


256 


DR. TUPPY 


and scheme to cover me with ridicule and to ex- 
pose me to contempt?” 

Sister Mary laid her work upon the table. 

“I don’t think it’s anything you’ve done” she 
said musingly, “it’s more complex than that. It’s 
rather the result of what you are , and of what Mr. 
Baxter is. So many people resent in others the 
qualities they lack themselves. If they are idle 
and careless, they resent others being painstaking 
and thorough; if they are selfish, they resent others 
being altruistic; if they are cunning, and false, and 
vulgar, they despise those who are simple, and 
true, and refined. Mr. Baxter was born with the 
same instinct that makes a cat play with a mouse; 
a simple man like you is his natural prey. If he’d 
had a hearty laugh at you in the first instance, if 
you had found him out and angrily reproached 
him, say over the incident of the splint, there 
would have been an end of the matter. But his 
claws failed to pierce the armour of your guileless- 
ness. His resentment grew into anger, his anger 
into hatred, until, at last, there is no act of du- 
plicity of which his malice is incapable.” 

“I mean to put an end to it,” replied Tuppy 
doggedly, “for his sake and my own.” 

“How?” 

“I shall go to the masquerade, I shall listen 
quietly to what they have to say, and then I shall 
have something to say in return.” 

“There is nothing you can say to them, Mr. 
Tuppy, which I cannot heartily endorse, and you 
may tell them so. One and all, I think them con- 


DR. TUPPY 


257 


temptible cowards. But you are one against 
many; I only hope they will do you no physical 
injury.” 

Tuppy laughed. “I shall come and see you to- 
night with some of their wigs, if not their scalps 
in my pocket. I know Committee Room No. 2, 
there’s a fire-alarm in it. In a couple of minutes 
I could call the whole staff of Hospital Porters, 
and in seven or ten the same number of fire 
engines.” 

“How do they obtain access to the Committee 
Room?” 

“Oh, that’s simple enough. It’s the very thing 
that makes the whole thing so obvious. At this 
time of year, the men are allowed to rehearse there 
for Christmas Theatricals.” 

There was a knock on the doorway. 

“Sister,” said a voice on the outside of the cur- 
tain, “Mr. Murray is asking for you.” 

“Come in, Nurse.” Sister Mary gave the young 
man her hand. “Don’t do anything rash,” she 
whispered. “Mr. Tuppy,” she continued aloud 
with a quizzical smile, “I think you have met this 
lady before, but you may have erroneous ideas as 
to her name. Remember, please, that in the Hos- 
pital, she is known as Nurse Jessop.” 


CHAPTER XVIII 


“Though this be madness, yet there’s method in it.” 

Hamlet , Act ii, Sc. 2. 

T UPPY took a day off. He wanted to avoid 
Messrs. Baxter, Mason and Smith. He was 
not so constituted as to be able to converse 
amiably with them in the day-time whilst he was 
meditating an attack upon them at night. He 
knew that they would read his thoughts at a 
glance. So he asked Murray to look after his 
cases, and indulged in a meditative walk through 
the Parks. He wanted to collect his thoughts, to 
arrange his plan of action for the evening. 

The younger partners in the conspiracy he could 
afford to treat with good-natured tolerance, they 
were only the tools of others; but to Messrs. Bax- 
ter, Mason and Smith there were some truths to 
be said, which, however unpleasant, he was de- 
termined to say. He must be on his guard against 
every contingency. The previous masquerade had 
been so clever, the make-ups, with the exception 
of the porter and the pirates, so perfect, the imi- 
tation of the voices so exact, that it was no won- 
der he had been deceived. This time he felt cer- 
tain that the vraisemblance would be still more 
258 


DR. TUPPY 


259 


complete; but, however complete it might be, he 
would always keep before him the fact that 
he was dealing with fellow-students, who were 
merely masking in disguise. That they should at- 
tempt such a trick again, seemed to be an 
astonishing piece of effrontery. How was he 
to deal with it? Would not the most generous 
way be to say at once, “Now, you chaps, take 
off your disguises; I guess who the ring-leaders 
are, but I mean to see every one of you and to 
talk to you straight.” But it was an irresistible 
temptation to play with them first, to pretend to 
be deceived, to answer them .modestly, to involve 
them more deeply; and then, gradually making 
them realize by the tone of his replies that 
instead of tricking him, they themselves were be- 
ing tricked, to open the flood-gates of reproach 
and to tell them the truth. Yes, this was the plan 
it would be best to pursue. 

At six o’clock, Tuppy rang the bell of the Great 
Hall door, in a mental attitude very different from 
that which had been his on the previous occasion, 
when he had presented himself, breathless and 
perspiring, at the Anatomical Theatre. It was an 
attitude of amused contempt, only embittered by 
the thought that Baxter should be one of those he 
had come to revile. 

It was getting dusk, just the half-light that 
seven o’clock had presented a few weeks before, 
just the half-darkness in which faces were obscure. 

“Good evening, sir,” said the porter as he opened 
the door. 


26 o 


DR. TUPPY 


Tuppy looked at the man closely. Why, it was 
Wilson, the Treasurer’s beadle, whom he knew 
perfectly well! Then he remembered the situation, 
and realized that this was all part of the trick, 
but really the make-up might have deceived the 
Devil himself. It was evident that the joke was 
going to be carried through, with a realism and 
elaboration of detail that would make detection 
impossible. But Tuppy was not to be taken in 
this journey, not he. It was a tremendous tempta- 
tion to pat the supposed beadle encouragingly on 
the shoulder and to say, “Very well done, young 
fellow, much better than last time!” But then 
the young fellow might tip the wink to the princi- 
pals, and the denouement be spoiled. So Tuppy 
lay perfectly low; at least he imagined he did, but 
a certain almighty knowingness crept into his 
smile, that made Wilson subsequently remark to 
his colleague, “I ’ope Mr. Tuppy ain’t been taking 
a drop to buck ’imself up for this ’ere Committee 
Meeting; I never see’d him with quite such a funny 
look in his face before.” 

It is true, that on Tuppy’s entrance to Com- 
mittee Room No. 2, the funny look was replaced 
for a moment by one of surprise. Everything was 
so totally different from what, with the light of 
his previous experience, he had been led to expect. 
There was no imposing array of Hospital authori- 
ties ready seated at a table, and decked in the 
glory and pomp of their academic robes, but one 
poor little gentleman whom he recognized as Mr. 
Maconachie, a clerk from the Treasurer’s office. 


DR. TUPPY 


261 

Then, for the second time, Tuppy pulled himself 
up and remembered the situation. This was an- 
other clever make-up, another example of pains- 
taking realism. 

“Take a seat, Mr. Tuppy,” said the clerk 
with a politely official bow, and went on with his 
writing. Again an almighty knowingness illumi- 
nated Tuppy’s smile, again he was tempted to 
prove that he held all the cards in his hand. It 
would be such a score just to wink, and to tap 
his nose sagely, and complacently say, “This is 
an excellent joke, my young friend, but Pve had 
quite enough of it. You’d better call in the other 
chaps, for there’s something I want to say to them 
straight.” But it would be better to let events 
take their course, to wait quietly for the psycho- 
logical moment. To spring his mine on a super 
would simply give the principals time to escape. 
He guessed that the Company had arrived rather 
late for the Show, and had sent in this young man 
to hold the scene, whilst they put the finishing 
touches to their respective make-ups. He won- 
dered who this young fellow might be, and 
deplored his defective sight that could not pene- 
trate the disguise, or see any one else but Mr. 
Maconachie. Poor Tuppy! if an Angel from 
Heaven had assured him that this was really Mr. 
Maconachie, he would have smiled an incredulous 
smile and regretted the Angel’s moral delinquency. 
In his mind there was firmly implanted the fixed 
idea that he was again the victim of a practical 
joke, and the blindness which in the first instance 


262 


DR. TUPPY 


had made him accept the sham for the real, now 
made him mistake the real for the sham. As for 
this young student, whoever he might be, who 
so successfully impersonated the clerk from the 
Treasurer’s office, Tuppy was determined he should 
not have the subsequent satisfaction of describing 
his victim’s terror and trepidation. So he took the 
proffered chair with a sprightly self-possession, 
twirled it round on one leg as if spinning a top, 
dusted it lightly with his handkerchief, and, sitting 
on it with a nonchalant air, cheerily hummed a 
popular music-hall melody. Mr. Maconachie 
lifted his eyes from his work for a moment with a 
look of reproachful amazement, and wondered, as 
Wilson had done, if the young man had been arm- 
ing himself for the ordeal by an over-indulgence 
in stimulants. Tuppy noticed the glance and 
hummed all the louder, until the sound of ap- 
proaching voices distracted his attention. Yes, 
they were coming at last. The door at the further 
end of the room was held open by Wilson, as 
the Members of the Good Discipline Committee 
trooped on to the scene. Tuppy felt bound to 
admit one thing to himself. There was much more 
histrionic talent in the Dramatic Club than he ever 
had realized. On this occasion, there were no 
gentlemen with beards suggestive of pirates in a 
comic opera, but one and all were the exact coun- 
terpart of members of the Hospital Staff, or of 
Almoners, with whose faces he was more or less 
familiar, although ignorant of their names. The 
whole entrance was so natural, so admirably stage- 


DR. TUPPY 


263 


managed. There was no display of academic robes, 
no theatrical trick to create an impression, not a 
sign of self-consciousness on the part of the actors. 

“Excellent, really excellent !” Tuppy muttered 
to himself as if watching a play; “but once bitten, 
twice shy; they won’t deceive me" 

The Members of the Committee sat themselves 
round a table at the far end of the room. Of 
Tuppy’s presence they appeared to be sublimely 
unconscious. 

“Some more copies of the Agenda, if you please, 
Mr. Maconachie,” said Sir William Fell, who had 
taken the chair. 

The clerk distributed the papers with officious 
dispatch and returned to his seat. 

“This is all very elaborate and clever,” Tuppy 
thought to himself, “but it’s quite unconvincing 
as far as I am concerned.” 

“Gentlemen,” continued Sir William, “I am glad 
to see so many of you here to-day. This Com- 
mittee discharges duties of paramount importance 
to the welfare of the Hospital School. The first 
matter we have to consider, is the proposed altera- 
tion in the hour at which students shall be re- 
quired to return to the College at night.” 

Then followed a discussion, the details of which 
Tuppy was unable to catch, none of the other 
members of the Committee possessing the pene- 
trating silvery tones that made Sir William Fell 
one of the most pleasing speakers of the day. 
Tuppy spent the interval in taking stock of the 
room and of the position of his opponents. The 


264 


DR. TUPPY 


fire-alarm could be easily reached. Of the three 
men whom he was most anxious to unwig and 
expose, the Gollywog, in the guise of Sir William 
Fell, sat at the end of the table, with Jimmy Ma- 
son, arrayed as before in Mr. Tucker's grey frock- 
coat, close beside him. But Baxter, whose per- 
sonality, according to Sister Mary, was concealed 
by the flowing beard which distinguished Sir 
James Chudleigh, sat in a less accessible situation 
and close to a door which afforded an easy means 
of escape. Tuppy had almost made up his mind 
that the best strategical plan to pursue, would be 
to cross the room swiftly and quietly, lock the door 
and put the key in his pocket, when his med- 
itations were interrupted by the voice of the 
Chairman. 

“By the way, Mr. Maconachie,” said Sir William, 
“will you inquire if a student named Mr. Tuppy 
has arrived ?" 

“He's here, Sir William," replied the Clerk. 

“Ask him to step this way." 

Tuppy rose from his seat with cheerful alacrity. 
On the former occasion they had played him on the 
hook for an hour, now he would show them, that 
in fishing for gudgeon they had landed a shark. 

“Place the chair more to the left and a little 
further away, Mr. Maconachie, that the gentlemen 
on the other side of the table may be able to see." 

“It's all right, Gollywog," Tuppy mentally ejac- 
ulated, “we shall come to close quarters directly, 
wherever you put me." 

The members of the Committee nearest to him 


DR. TUPPY 


265 


turned round on their seats, whilst those who were 
opposite, craned their necks in order to have a 
better view of the culprit, whose delinquencies con- 
stituted the next point in the Agenda. 

Tuppy sat down with a bow and a flourish, 
thrust his hands deeply into his trousers' pockets, 
extended his feet widely apart, and balancing him- 
self on the back legs of the chair, surveyed the 
company with a familiar and comprehensive smile 
of omniscience. 

“One to me,” was his inward remark, as he 
observed that the members of the Committee were 
staggered. They were so staggered, in fact, that 
they could only throw glances of inquiry at the 
Chairman, and the Chairman at them. 

“Mr. Tuppy,” observed Sir William after a 
pause, “I cannot suppose that you are deliberately 
failing in respect on this occasion, but I shall be 
obliged if you will take your hands out of your 
pockets and sit straight on your chair.” 

Tuppy complied. After all, it was no good spoil- 
ing the game when it had hardly begun. 

“Anything you like, Sir William ,” he replied 
airily, with a tremendous emphasis on the name, 
“anything you like.” 

Sir William spoke to Mr. Tucker under his 
breath. 

“You haven't raised the question of alcoholism, 
Tucker. Is this Mr. Tuppy a temperate young 
man?” 

“As far as I know. He is supposed, I believe, 
by the students to be a little bit soft, but person- 


266 


DR. TUPPY 


ally I regard him as rather a knave than a fool. I 
caught him flirting with this Nurse Jessop on the 
first day he entered the wards.” 

Sir William threw another searching look to- 
wards the subject of his inquiries, to which Tuppy 
responded by sagely wagging his head and smiling 
a smile of portentous significance. 

“Really, Tucker, I don’t think this gentleman 
can be quite sober.” 

“Sober, but impudent, Fell, in my opinion. I’ve 
had to deal with his impertinence before.” 

The members of the Committee put their heads 
together over the table, and continued the con- 
versation in the same inaudible tones. 

Tuppy was beginning to enjoy himself. He 
wondered if his tormentors were discussing the 
wisdom of retiring from the scene, and whether 
he was near enough to the door to cut off their 
retreat. 

“I say, you fellows,” he remarked after a pause, 
“don’t you know that it’s awfuly rude to whisper 
in company? You may be a Good Discipline 
Committee, but you haven’t got good manners.” 

“Silence, sir!” said Sir William, banging his fist 
on the table. “I wish to deal leniently with your 
case, reprehensible as it is, but you make it im- 
possible.” 

Tuppy was really pleased that they were deter- 
mined to go on with the game. The exposure, 
when it came, would be all the more absolute; but 
he thought the time had arrived when he might 
quicken the pace. 


DR. TUPPY 267 

“Ha ! ha!” he replied with provocative flippancy; 
“likewise Ho, ho!” 

Sir William put down his pen with a gesture of 
despair. 

“Mr. Tuppy, you must surely see that this un- 
seemly behaviour can only prejudice your case. 
I should ask you to retire at once, were it not for 
the fact that I do not think you are entirely 
responsible, and that we wish to dispose of the 
matter to-night.” 

Another consultation in undertones followed. 

“Unless this gentleman apologizes,” said Sir 
William to his colleagues, “I fear that quite irre- 
spective of Mr. Tucker's allegations, there is no 
course open to us but to erase his name from the 
Hospital books.” 

The Committee expressed its unanimous consent. 

“I wanted to deal with you lightly, Mr. Tuppy,” 
continued Sir William, “because this is the first 
time on which we have had cause to call you before 
us.” 

“Well, I don’t think,” replied Tuppy concisely. 

“Mr. Maconachie, come this way, please. Has 
Mr. Tuppy appeared before us on any former occa- 
sion? I can find no record of it on the books.” 

“No, Sir William.” 

“Oh, you shut up, Maconachie, or whatever 
your real name may be. I want to deal with the 
principals only, not with supers like you.” 

Sir William controlled himself with an effort. 

“Mr. Tuppy, don't you realize that you are con- 
ducting yourself in a way which is highly improper, 


268 


DR. TUPPY 


that your whole attitude is an impertinence, that 
you are, in fact, imperilling your career?” 

Tuppy laughed aloud. How could these men be 
so profoundly obtuse as not to perceive they were 
being tricked and exposed? What preposterous 
remark could he make to convince them? Point- 
ing his long arm and an extended finger towards 
the questioner, he quoted the old Seventeenth 
Century rhyme: 

“T do not love thee, Dr. Fell, 

The reason why I cannot tell; 

But this alone I know full well, 

I do not love thee, Dr. Fell. , ” 

“You will agree with me, gentlemen,” cried Sir 
William, “that this is open insubordination. I will 
give you one last chance, sir. If you will apologize 
at once, if you will compose yourself and act with 
decency, if ” 

“T do not love thee, Dr. Fell, 

The reason why I cannot tell; 

But this alone I know full well, 

I do not love thee, Dr. Fell/ ” 

Sir William lost his self-control at last. 

“Are you aware of what you are saying, sir? 
Do you realize to whom you are speaking?” 

“Yes, I realize completely, Golly wog; and that's 
the very point I am unable to knock into your 
thick head. 

I do not love thee, Gollywog, 

You seem to me a surly dog, 

And though you’re only here incog., 

I do not love thee, Gollywog.” 


DR. TUPPY 


269 

“I think you're right, Fell,” said Mr. Tucker, 
quietly to Sir William; “this man must be drunk. 
I should dismiss him summarily.” 

Again the members of the Committee put their 
heads together over the table in whispered consul- 
tation. 

“Mr. Tuppy,” said Sir William, turning to the 
culprit, “we feel that you have robbed yourself of 
any possible sympathy. Your insolent behaviour 
is in itself sufficient justification for the removal of 
your name from the Hospital books.” 

“Oh, stow it, Gollywog ! don't you see the game's 
played out?” 

“You entered here,” continued Sir William, ig- 
noring the interruption, “some seven years ago, 
and paid your fees as a perpetual student. If you 
think you have any claim against us in this re- 
spect you had better make an application through 
your Solicitor in the proper quarters. This Com- 
mittee deeply regrets what has occurred. Your 
record at the Hospital, up to this date, appears 
to have been painstaking and satisfactory, if not 
brilliant.” 

“Go on, Gollywog,” remarked Tuppy, “you're 
a jolly good actor.” 

“If you had come before us to-night in a repen- 
tant spirit, although compelled to rusticate you for 
at least a year, we should have endeavoured to 
avoid ruining your career. We know, of course, 
what young men are; we have been young our- 
selves. But there is an old proverb that a bird 
should not sully its own nest. In this big city, 


270 


DR. TUPPY 


there are only too many ways open to young men 
who desire to gratify *their passions. It is our 
duty to uphold the morality and the honour of 
our Nursing Staff. As for this Nurse Jessop ” 

“Stop!” shouted Tuppy, starting to his feet. 
“Not one other word. Lips like yours are too foul 
even to breathe her name. I thrashed you before 
for being rude to her; I’ll kill you if you speak 
evil of her. ,, 

The members of the Committee rose from their 
chairs. 

Tuppy rushed to the door, locked it and put 
the key in his pocket. 

“You don’t budge,” he cried, white with passion, 
“until you’ve heard what / have to say. You 
thought this a pretty trick, and you’ve played it 
through to the end; but you’re caught like vermin 
in your own trap. What do men like you care for 
the honour of our Nursing Staff? What do men 
like you care for the honour of the Hospital? 
What do men like you know about honour? Was 
it honourable to fool me, honourable to trap me, 
trick me, torture me? What injury had I wrought 
you, what harm had I done you?” 

“This isn’t drink,” whispered Mr. Tucker to Sir 
William; “this is a case of acute mania.” 

“You youngsters,” continued Tuppy with a 
sweep of his hand towards the astounded Al- 
moners, “ I can forgive; you are the tools of others. 
And you,” he darted a finger at Sir William, “you, 
Gollywog, I can almost forgive, for I thrashed 
you, and you had a grievance against me;” then 


DR. TUPPY 


271 


he turned to Mr. Tucker, “and you I can forgive, 
for you are the Golly wog’s friend; but You” — he 
advanced with a threatening gesture towards Sir 
James Chudleigh — “what can I say to you? Judas, 
liar, trickster, hypocrite! you whom I trusted, you 
in whom I confided, you whom I loved!” Tuppy’s 
voice failed, choked by the great sob that rose in 
his throat. 

“We’d better send for the beadles,” murmured 
Sir James, seeking shelter amongst his colleagues; 
“the poor young man is demented.” 

“Had it not been for Sister Mary,” continued 
Tuppy, “I should never have found you out; but 
even Sister Mary would have failed to convince me, 
if it had not been for your own written evidence.” 

“Sister Mary?” exclaimed the astonished phy- 
sician. 

“Yes, Sister Mary, who saw through your tricks 
from the first; Sister Mary, who discovered which 
part you were playing; Sister Mary, who regards 
one and all of you as contemptible cowards!” 

“My dear Mr. Tuppy ” 

“But this is the end,” shouted Tuppy, stamp- 
ing his foot on the ground. “Off with your wig! 
Off with your beard! or PU tear them from you 
myself!” 

The horror-stricken Mr. Maconachie, who, for 
some time, with trembling fingers had been pawing 
the air behind Tuppy’s back, decided that this 
was the moment to act. If he had been content 
to carry out his original intention of merely exer- 
cising restraint by a firm grip of the aggressor’s 


272 


DR. TUPPY 


coat-tails, all might have been well; but, carried 
away by the possible glory of rescuing the Good 
Discipline Committee from danger and distress, 
he struck a violent blow at Tuppy’s neck. For 
a moment, Tuppy was staggered, and then, recov- 
ering himself, sent his opponent spinning across the 
room. 

'‘You’re twenty to one,” he cried, "but I’d have 
taken you all on individually, if you’d played the 
game. As it is, we’d better have some witnesses.” 
He dashed his elbow through the glass of the fire- 
alarm, put his back to the wall, squared his shoul- 
ders and doubled his fists. 

Nobody stirred, nobody spoke. The madman 
had done the very thing they would have wished 
him to do. In a minute, assistance would come, 
and all would be well. As the iron tongue of the 
alarm bell clanged out its warning note, Tuppy 
smiled in triumph and the Committe sighed with 
relief. There were shrill whistles in the Square, 
the cry of "Fire! Fire!” the stamp of hurrying 
feet, the sound of approaching voices; the door 
was thrown open, and a crowd of porters, firemen 
and employes poured into the room. 

"I’m sorry to have called you chaps with a 
false alarm,” cried Tuppy, "but I need your assist- 
ance. I want you to stand round, and to see fair 
play.” 

Sir William Fell took a step forward. 

"Phillips,” he said to the Hospital fireman, "this 
gentleman has suddenly gone mad. He’s a danger 


DR. TUPPY 


273 

to himself and to others; your men must secure 
him.” 

Phillips touched his cap. “Yes, Sir William.” 

“Oh, the plot is as thick as that, is it?” shouted 
Tuppy. “Come on then, and I’ll take the lot of 
you.” He landed a straight blow on the face of 
his leading opponent, but, before he could recover 
himself, the men had closed round him, he was 
flung suddenly backwards, his head struck the wall, 
and without a cry he fell senseless to the floor. 


CHAPTER XIX 


“Don’t tie with your tongue what you can’t open with your 
teeth.” 


Irish Proverb. 


S ISTER MARY never remembered such a scare 
of fire since she first entered the Hospital 
an untrained Probationer, and how many years 
ago that was she hardly dared to acknowledge. 
She was giving out the medicines in the Ward, 
when the deep warning note of the alarm bell first 
boomed across the Square, and it was only the 
placid continuance of her task and her unruffled 
demeanour that reassured the Probationers and 
calmed the fears of the patients. She felt that she 
was winning a reputation for equanimity and 
courage under false pretences, but she could not 
tell the Nurses that, for her part, she was sure 
that the only conflagration in the Hospital was 
the one raging in Mr. Tuppy’s breast. Had she 
not been warned as to what his action would be, 
if driven to extremities, she would have been 
alarmed herself. The Quadrangle was alive with 
men, the fire-escape had been hurried to the Great 
Hall, the members of the Hospital brigade were 
blowing their whistles and tearing wildly from 
block to block. And now she could hear in the 
distance the sharp clang of the bell that makes 
every heart throb with the echo of “Fire,” the 
274 


DR. TUPPY 


275 


harsh murmur of shouts from afar that gradually 
swelled into a roar as, amidst a loud cheer from 
the students, the first engine rushed into the 
Square. She could see the flash of the men’s hel- 
mets as they leapt from their seats, some run- 
ning to the hydrants, some unwinding the hose. 
Another bell in the distance, another tempest of 
shouts, another engine dashed on to the scene. 
And yet another, and another. And there they 
all stood, panting, puffing, vibrating, throwing 
sparks from their furnaces and steam from their 
valves, eager to quench an Etna or subdue a Vesu- 
vius. Then came a lull in the proceedings, for, 
as the Little Sister had guessed, the only sugges- 
tion of fire was the smoke from the pipes of the 
students. And so, after the expenditure of much 
wasted energy, the firemen again mounted their 
seats, and withdrew from the scene amidst cheers 
of playful derision. 

Sister Mary retired to her room, and awaited 
Mr. Tuppy’s arrival with considerable curiosity. 
But she waited in vain. The groups in the Square 
gradually melted away, the Hospital assumed its 
normal state of repose, ten o’clock struck and it 
became evident that Mr. Tuppy had postponed 
his promised return with the wigs or scalps of his 
enemies until the following morning. Perhaps he 
would run in for a minute on his way to the 
Surgery, an event, indeed, which recently had been 
of quite frequent occurrence. 

So the Little Sister was up betimes, and by a 
quarter-to-nine had not only stolen half an hour’s 


276 


DR. TUPPY 


march on her work, but had finished her break- 
fast. At the very moment that the Hospital clock 
chimed the three-quarters, she heard a knock at 
her doorway. 

“Come in, Mr. Tuppy. Pm delighted to see 
you.” 

“I hope you will be equally pleased to see me” 
said a voice, as the curtain was drawn on one side. 
Sister Mary looked up and encountered the eyes 
of the Matron. 

“Fm always pleased to see you, Matron,” she 
answered, “but I don’t like to see you looking so 
very distressed, what on earth is the matter?” 

“Oh, my dear Sister Mary, my poor Sister Mary, 
what have you been doing?” 

“Well, nothing very distinguished, I fear. As a 
Hospital Sister one hasn’t very much opportunity. 
One can’t hope to set the Thames on fire.” 

“No, my dear, but you might set the Hospital 
on fire, and that would be very much worse. What 
a terrible scare we had yesterday evening — and the 
stories I’ve heard! And why should you be ex- 
pecting to see that poor Mr. Tuppy? But there! 
You may rely upon me; no doubt I made a mis- 
take; and misunderstood what you said. I know 
you’re the best Sister we have in the Hospital, and 
I can only pray that you have not been misled, 
but — but I have to discharge my duty.” Whilst 
the dear garrulous lady recovered her breath, Sister 
Mary wondered in her mind as to what was to 
come. 

“I regret to inform you,” continued the Matron 


DR. TUPPY 


277 


with the gravest and most sympathetic of faces, 
“that by order of the Good Discipline Committee 
you are to attend a meeting of the Court of Al- 
moners and Governors to be held in the Great 
Hall, on Saturday next at 11 a.m.” 

“Well, they can't eat me, Matron. But I do 
hope they won't keep me long, for on Saturday 
morning I expect to be busy." 

“My dear Sister Mary, I am sorry to add that in 
the meantime you are suspended from duty." 
Sister Mary turned pale. 

“Suspended from duty, Matron? Why, it's per- 
fectly infamous." 

The Matron agreed that it was perfectly infa- 
mous. She was as indignant, indeed, as the Little 
Sister herself, and as ignorant with regard to the 
nature of the indictment. She bitterly resented 
this high-handed action on the part of the Staff, 
this unwarrantable interference with what was her 
own particular province. She believed that Mr. 
Tucker was the prime mover in the affair, but she 
had received these instructions in an autograph 
letter from Sir William himself, and arbitrary and 
irregular as they undoubtedly were, she was bound 
to obey. 

“I quite understand, Matron," Sister Mary re- 
plied. “I'll put the Ward in the hands of Nurse 
Jessop at once. It’s lucky for every one, that I 
have such an able lieutenant." But her satisfac- 
tion was premature. Nurse Jessop was also under 
the ban, and had been dismissed to the Home in 
disgrace. And so, the Little Sister, having sur- 


278 


DR. TUPPY 


rendered her keys and authority to the well-inten- 
tioned but ignorant Probationer who was third 
in command, retired to her room. Her disposition 
was amiable and pliable, but it was founded on 
rock, on a rock of truth, and honour, and justice, 
which nothing could shake. That any one should 
venture to question her worthiness, or should dare 
to humiliate her without a hearing, seemed a mon- 
strous and incredible thing. She walked back- 
wards and forwards in impotent rage. Her move- 
ments were arrested by a knock on the door. 

“Come in.” 

“Sister, am I to dress Number Five, this morn- 
ing? Her temperature is ” 

“I know nothing about it, Nurse. Pm sus- 
pended from duty. You must ask Mr. Murray.” 

Sister Mary continued her peregrinations. Yes, 
it was a monstrous and incredible thing, but when 
she recalled the fact that Nurse Jessop also was 
suspended from duty, she began to guess at the 
cause of the trouble. The Good Discipline Com- 
mittee had discovered a mare’s nest of so prodig- 
ious a nature, that they had passed it on to the 
worshipful Court of Almoners and Governors to 
consider. Well, her conscience was clear; what- 
ever she had done, she had done for the best, and 
in the same circumstances she would do it again, 
in spite of the consequences. 

There was another knock on the door. 

“If you please, Sister, Mr. Murray’s compli- 
ments, and will you speak to him for a minute 
about Number Five?” 


DR. TUPPY 


279 


“My respects to Mr. Murray, but as I am sus- 
pended from duty, I am unable to oblige him. ,, 

On one point she was determined. With the 
exception of the Ward-maid who brought her her 
meals, she would hold converse with no one, until 
the stigma had been removed and she had been 
restored to her office. It was an excellent oppor- 
tunity to clear oft her correspondence, and to tidy 
her room. But she had hardly opened her desk, 
before another knock came. 

“If you please, Sister, the Steward has come to 
take stock, and says it is impossible to do it with 
any one else but yourself.” 

“Convey my regrets to the Steward, Nurse, and 
tell him Pm suspended from duty.” 

The Little Sister smiled to herself. Sir William 
Fell and his associates really needed a lesson. Did 
they think a Ward worked itself? They might 
as well take the two springs from a watch and still 
expect it to go. And, then, not to give her either 
warning or hint. And yet, as Sir William had sent 
his peremptory commands through the post, they 
must have formed their conclusions by yesterday 
afternoon, by last night at the latest. A sudden 
thought flashed through her mind and drove the 
hot blood to her cheeks. Was it possible that Mr. 
Tuppy and she had made a mistake? Oh, bother 
the Nurse, there was another knock on the door. 

“Mr. Murray’s compliments, Sister, and will you 
tell him what were Mr. Tucker’s verbal instruc- 
tions in regard to Number Five?” 

“I’m suspended from duty, Nurse. Mr. Murray 


28 o 


DR. TUPPY 


knows there is a ’phone in the Ward. He had far 
better get the verbal instructions from Mr. Tucker 
himself.” 

Was it possible, she wondered, that the letter 
which Mr. Tuppy had received, really emanated 
from the Good Discipline Committee and not from 
the students? But even in this event, she did not 
quite see how she was involved. Well, she would 
know all about it on Saturday next, and until then, 
she determined to put the matter out of her mind. 

Another knock at the door. She wished they 
would leave her alone. 

“If you please, Sister, Mr. Tucker would like to 
speak to you on the telephone.” 

“Indeed, Nurse. Well, give my respects to Mr. 
Tucker and say, that, as by an order of the Good 
Discipline Committee I am suspended from duty, 
I deeply regret I cannot oblige him. He must, of 
course, communicate with the Staff Nurse in 
charge.” She laughed to herself. The situation 
amused her. She thought of the old song: 

“All down the hill his loving bride 
Now ran with all her force 
To push him in. He stepped aside, 

And she fell in of course. 

Now splashing, dashing like a fish 
‘Oh, save me, Johnny Sands’ — 

‘I can’t, my dear, tho’ much I wish, 

For you have tied my hands.’ ” 

Well, she Rad reversed the position. In this 
case, it was the woman’s hands that were tied, 
and the man who had need of assistance. 


CHAPTER XX 


“Good name in man or woman 
Is the immediate jewel of their souls.” 

Othello. 

H E was in bed; his head was bandaged; the 
sun was shining through a window that 
was barred, into a room that was strange; a Nurse 
was sitting by his side; a male attendant on a 
chair close to the door. A returning consciousness 
revealed these facts to Tuppy, but beyond this his 
mental processes were unable to travel. How he 
had come there, what it was that had happened, 
were mysteries which he had neither the desire nor 
the capacity to solve. 

The Nurse rose from her seat and crossed to the 
attendant. 

“Go and tell Mr. Murray that Mr. Tuppy is 
conscious — and quiet.” 

Tuppy heard her remark quite distinctly. He 
wondered why Nurses always seemed to imagine 
that patients were deaf. Although the past was a 
blank to him, his mind was alert enough in regard 
to the present, and he realized from the Nurse's 
remark, that his return to consciousness had more 
significance than the ordinary awakening from 
281 


282 


DR. TUPPY 


sleep. But why should she add that he was quiet? 
What on earth did she expect him to be? He felt 
not only quiet, but heavily and hopelessly weak. 
And now she was filling a feeding cup with soda 
and milk. He wouldn't have taken it, but when 
she lifted his head, it was really less trouble to 
acquiesce than to resist. Well, it wasn't so bad 
after all. His eyes looked up into hers. Yes, he 
meant that he'd try another pull. 

“That's better," she said, with a smile. Then 
Tuppy smiled too and felt she was right, it was 
very much better. He wondered why he had such 
an unquenchable thirst. 

“Well, Nurse, and how is our patient?" Ah, 
here was dear old Murray. 

“I'm all right, Bob." Tuppy was surprised at 
the effort it cost him to speak. 

“Good for you, Charlie, but don't you talk too 
much. I'll just see Nurse's report." 

The two retired to a corner of the room, and 
conversed in inaudible tones. Then the House 
Surgeon returned to the bedside, and casually 
placed the chair in a position from which, when he 
sat, he could command a good view of his patient. 

“Well, you're doing splendidly, Charlie, aren't 
you; quite convalescent, eh?" 

He laid a kindly hand on the back of his friend's 
wrist, whilst his fingers stole lightly and naturally 
round to the pulse. 

“Very prettily done," Tuppy thought to himself. 
“Bob doesn't want to frighten me." Except for 
his feeling of profound and indescribable lassitude, 


DR. TUPPY 


283 

and his inability to recall any events that would 
account for his present predicament, he felt per- 
fectly well both in body and mind. For what 
possible reason the House Surgeon should sit there 
in silence and watch him so searchingly, Tuppy was 
at a loss to imagine. In spite of his weakness, he 
determined to make an effort to clear up affairs 
for himself. 

“' Where am I, Bob?” 

“Well, you’re in the Hospital at present, but I 
guess you’ll be out in a day or two.” 

“But I don’t know this place. Why wasn’t I 
warded if I’m ill?” 

“Well, my dear boy, we thought you’d be more 
comfortable in a private room.” 

It was lucky, Murray thought, that Tuppy had 
never reckoned among his patients a case of De- 
lirium Tremens or maniacal insanity, or he would 
have recognized the significance of the male at- 
tendant’s presence, of the barred windows, of the 
bed with the padded flaps, and would have known 
at once that he was confined in the strong-room 
of the Hospital. The precaution, as it happened, 
had been absurd and unnecessary. The patient had 
lain, the Nurse reported, quietly unconscious 
through the night, with a smile, as placid as a 
child’s, upon his face. He had roused from his 
concussion, it seemed to Murray, with a mind as 
clear and calm as that of a person who awakens 
from sleep. 

“Why is my head bandaged?” was Tuppy’s next 
question. 


284 


DR. TUPPY 


"Just a little scalp-wound, my dear Charlie. A 
mere nothing, I assure you. Only wanted a single 
stitch. It will heal by first intention, you bet. 
Your temperature’s normal, and to-day I shan’t 
even look at it.” 

"How did it happen?” 

"Well,” replied the House Surgeon with some 
hesitation, "I believe you knocked your head 
against a wall.” 

"Who knocked it?” 

Murray began to find the questions extremely 
embarrassing. 

"Well, I heard that you fell and knocked it.” 

"Then who felled me?” asked Tuppy with a grin. 

Murray laughed in reply. 

"My dear Charlie, I really know nothing about 
it. Don’t worry. By to-morrow, no doubt, you’ll 
remember all about it yourself.” 

Tuppy felt too weak to argue the point or to 
push his inquiries, and Murray was eager to make 
his escape. The young House Surgeon was puz- 
zled. On the previous night, when he had been 
called to the case, Mr. Tucker had told him that 
primarily it was one of acute mania, that he must 
be prepared for any exhibition of violence, and 
that, with regard to the mental aspect at least, 
the prognosis was grave. And this morning, here 
was Tuppy as mild as a lamb, and with the 
equanimity of a judge. And what puzzled him as 
much, and distressed him still more, was the in- 
formation, which he would not have believed had 
it not emanated from Mr. Tucker himself, that 


DR. TUPPY 


285 


Tuppy had been arraigned before the Good Disci- 
pline Committee for a most serious offence and 
had been expelled from the Hospital. All this was 
amazing enough, but when Murray made his 
rounds of the Wards it was to hear of events of 
even greater significance. Nurse Jessop had been 
sent for by the Matron, and dismissed to the 
Nurses’ Home in disgrace, whilst the Little Sister, 
Sister Mary herself, had been suspended from duty 
and confined to her room. 

The next day Tuppy was stronger; on the third 
day he was allowed to get up and to sit by the fire. 

“Well, Bob,” he said, cheerily, “I want to return 
to my work in the Wards. I suppose you’ll be 
able to discharge me to-morrow.” 

The House Surgeon was nonplussed. Tuppy 
was perfectly normal, except for the fact that in 
regard to the twelve hours preceding his concus- 
sion his mind was a blank. To explain to him that, 
during that interval, he had been arraigned before 
the Good Discipline Committee, had been dis- 
missed from the Hospital, had raved like a mad- 
man and been silenced by force, would probably 
set up a condition of shock, and of shock which 
might be followed by disastrous results. It was 
safer to wait for his memory to be illumined by a 
dawning light from within, than to startle it with 
a sudden flash from without. 

“If you take my advice, Charlie, you won’t think 
of going out before the end of next week.” 

“But I want to get back to my work, I want 
to get back to the Wards. I want to see ” 


286 


DR. TUPPY 


Tuppy checked himself suddenly. “By the way, 
Bob, isn't it rather strange that Sister Mary has 
never paid me a visit?" 

Murray felt he had climbed out of one pitfall, 
only to tumble into another. 

“Well, Sister Mary is — is — Sister Mary has a bit 
of a cold. I expect she's afraid of making it worse 
by crossing the Square." 

“But hasn't she sent me a message?" 

“My dear Charlie, I really haven't seen her. It's 
a bad cold, a very bad cold indeed. Sister Mary is 
confined to her room." 

Tuppy was sorry, although it was Bella of whom 
he really wanted to hear. But he couldn't tell 
Murray so. It would never have done, of course, 
for Bella to ask for permission to see him, and 
doubtless she had good reasons for deciding not 
even to write. 

“Well, I want to get back to my work," he re- 
peated querulously. 

“I wish you'd wait a few days, Charlie. I know 
it’s beastly dull down here, all by yourself. Shall 
I send some of the men to see you? Hitherto I 
have kept them away, but perhaps you’d like to 
see the Gollywog — or Baxter." 

“Dick Baxter, why of course. Just fancy, I'd 

forgotten him. Dear old Dick — dear old " 

Tuppy paused, an anguished expression passed 
over his face, he uttered a cry of horror and burst 
into tears. 

The House Surgeon was alarmed; he began to 
fear that Mr. Tucker was right, here was a condi- 


DR. TUPPY 287 

tion of hysteria allied to insanity. He laid a firm 
hand on his friend’s shoulder. 

“Come, Charlie, pull yourself together.” 

Tuppy pulled himself together, passed a hand 
over his eyes, gripped the arm of his chair, and 
lifted his head. 

“Yes, by Jove. I have need to,” he answered. 
“Such a cur does not deserve the compliment of 
tears. But I’m still a bit weak, Bob, still a bit 
weak.” 

He sat silently for a minute, and gazed into the 
fire, then broke into a cynical laugh. 

“It was a damnable trick, but it was damnably 
well done.” 

“What was a damnable trick?” asked Murray, 
interpreting the somewhat cryptic remark as a 
further indication of mental disturbance. 

“I’ll tell you all about it,” said Tuppy, “every- 
thing has come back to me.” He leaned back in 
his chair, thoughtfully tapping the finger tips of 
his two hands together, whilst he still gazed into 
the fire. “Do you remember Sister Mary coming 
to your rooms one night to borrow a hat and coat 
for me?” 

“Yes, perfectly.” 

“Do you know why I wanted them?” 

“I knew some trick had been played on you, but 
Sister Mary never told me the details.” 

Then Tuppy related the story of his letter from 
the pseudo Good Discipline Committee and all the 
subsequent events. “Last Tuesday,” he continued, 
“I had another such letter, but this time I was 


288 


DR. TUPPY 


even with them. At least I wasn’t deceived. I 
told them the truth. But it resolved itself into 
a matter of fisticuffs, and as they were forty to one, 
they knocked me senseless, carried me, I suppose, 
into the Square, sent a message to the Surgery 
that help was required, and then wisely decamped. 
The whole thing was a masterpiece of which the 
Devil himself might be proud.” 

Then, at last Murray began to perceive the real 
situation. Tuppy had been deceived, but, thank 
goodness, Tuppy was sane, and that being the case, 
there was only one thing to be done, to tell him the 
truth. 

“My dear Charlie,” he said, “I see your mind is 
perfectly clear, and you are able, I take it, to bear 
a bit of a shock.” 

“I’ve borne this one pretty well,” replied Tuppy, 
pointing to the dressing on his head, “I think I 
might bear another.” 

“Well, my dear boy, the first Good Discipline 
Committee before which you appeared was a pal- 
pable sham.” 

“I should think so.” 

“And also, as you rightly remarked, a most 
damnable trick. But the second, my dear Charlie, 
the second . . .” 

“Well, the second was a cleverer show. Of 
course I know that.” 

“The second, my poor dear old Charlie, was 
unfortunately the genuine article.” 

Tuppy bounded up from his seat. 

“What!” he exclaimed, “it’s impossible.” 


DR. TUPPY 


289 

“It's not only possible, but it's true. You saw 
a real Mr. Maconachie, a real Mr. Tucker, a real 
Sir William Fell, a real Sir James Chudleigh. The 
Almoners were real, the porters were real. In the 
first Committee Meeting you were deceived by 
others, in the second Committee Meeting you were 
deceived by yourself.” 

Tuppy sank back in his chair. 

“Good Lord! Then this is the end indeed.” 

“I don't think so,” replied Murray encourag- 
ingly. “I think there is hope. If you will express 
your regret, if you will apply for another hearing, if 
you will hand over the names of the men whom you 
suspect of having tricked you before ” 

“Never, never, never!” was Tuppy's reply. 
“Never as long as I live. Let the Good Discipline 
Committee do their own dirty work. I am not an 
informer. Besides, the charge they bring against 
me is more sweeping, the grievance I have against 
them is far deeper. They have insulted a woman, 
the best and purest woman in the world — a woman 
I respect — a woman I love. They doubted her 
honour, and besmirched her good name. They 
sought for no explanation, they never paused to 
consider, they never stopped to inquire. Their 
prurient, dissolute minds leapt at once to a shame- 
less conclusion. Fve done with them. I've done 
with the Hospital. To-morrow I turn my back on 
it for ever and shake off its dust from my feet.” 


CHAPTER XXI 


“Mens sibi conscia recti ” 

Virgil. 

I T was Saturday morning. The city clocks were 
striking the hour of eleven, as Sister Mary, 
clad in her smartest Hospital frock and her whitest 
apron and cap, walked briskly across the Square to 
the steps of the Great Hall. 

“Exactly in time, Sister,” said Wilson touching 
his cap, “the Treasurer has just asked for you.” 

She followed the beadle up the broad oaken 
staircase. The Members of the Court of Almoners 
and Governors were seated at three long tables, 
arranged in the form of an open square, at the far 
end of the Hall. 

As the Little Sister, dwarfed by the huge pro- 
portions of the vast and stately chamber, quietly 
crept along the wide expanse of floor, it occurred 
to more than one of them that she had the appear- 
ance of a little white mouse; but the little white 
mouse, as they subsequently found, had the heart 
of a lion and a mind that was conscious of right. 

“You know more about this matter than I do, 
Fell,” said Lord Maxwell, the Honorary Treasurer 
of the Hospital, “will you kindly take the chair?” 
290 


DR. TUPPY 


29 1 

Sir William rose and bowed his assent, then 
bowed to Sister Mary. 

"Mr. Maconachie, give Sister Mary a chair.” 

Sister Mary bowed to Sir William and the 
Court; then, although her heart was beating a 
hundred to the minute, seated herself with ap- 
parent composure. 

"Sister Mary,” began Sir William, in tones of 
grave deliberation, "I am sure I am expressing the 
feelings of every member of this Court of Almoners 
and Governors when I say that it is with the 
deepest regret that we see you before us to-day. 
You have served this great Institution for many 
years faithfully and well. Your standard of pro- 
fessional efficiency has been high, your private 
character beyond reproach. It is, therefore, with 
all the more pain that we have to call your atten- 
tion to certain facts which demand the fullest 
explanation, or call for the severest censure.” 

The little white mouse turned a trifle whiter but 
made no reply. 

"On Tuesday last, the Good Discipline Com- 
mittee, of which I have the honour to be Chair- 
man, had occasion to consider the case of a student 
named Mr. Charles Theophilus Tuppy. I believe 
you know Mr. Tuppy?” 

Sister Mary bowed. 

"We do not wish to attach too much importance 
to the ravings of this misguided young man, for 
we cannot regard him as altogether responsible, 
but we have been forced to conclude that his per- 
sistent references to yourself indicate that you have 


292 


DR. TUPPY 


been party to, if not the prime inspirer of, his illu- 
sions. Mr. Maconachie, kindly tell us a few of the 
remarks that Mr. Tuppy actually made.” 

The clerk rose from his seat and read from his 
shorthand notes in an expressionless monotone, 
“ T do not love thee, Dr. Fell, The reason why I 
cannot tell 5 ” 

“No, no,” interrupted Sir William testily, as the 
Almoners and Governors commenced to titter, 
“not that, but his references to Sister Mary.” 

“I beg your pardon, Sir William. Mr. Tuppy 
said 'Had it not been for Sister Mary, I should 
never have found you out’ — 'Sister Mary saw 
through your tricks from the first’ — 'Sister 
Mary regards you one and all as contemptible 
cowards.’ ” 

“That’s what I wanted, Mr. Maconachie. Now, 
Sister, will you kindly tell the Court whether these 
statements are merely the ravings of a lunatic, or 
whether they are really suggested by anything that 
has passed.” 

“More than suggested, Sir William. They are 
true statements of facts, and a correct report of 
my sentiments.” 

A perceptible shiver ran through the Cour 

“Do you realize what you are saying?” 

“Perfectly, Sir William,” replied the little white 
mouse, “and if you will allow me, I shall be glad 
to give an explanation of how these statements 
came to be made.” 

“Will Sister Sary speak up?” interrupted an 


DR. TUPPY 


^93 

aged Almoner who was straining over the table 
with a hand behind his ear. 

“You mean Sister Mary, sir,” remarked Sir 
William. “Sister Mary, will you kindly speak a 
little louder?” 

“I say, if you will allow me, I shall be glad to 
give an explanation,” repeated the Little Sister, 
endeavouring to adapt her voice to the vast dimen- 
sions of the Hall. 

“Ah, she refuses to give an explanation,” ex- 
claimed the aged Almoner, 'just what I thought.” 

“She’s going to give an explanation, sir,” 
shouted Sir William in despair. 

“I have known Mr. Tuppy only a few months,” 
continued Sister Mary, “but I have a very high 
regard for him. From the first moment he entered 
the Surgical Wards as a Dresser he has been made 
the victim of ill-natured practical jokes. The worst 
of these was when a party of his fellow-students 
disguised themselves as Members of the Good 
Discipline Committee, choosing especially the 
semblance of yourself, Sir William, of Sir James 
Chudleigh, and of Mr. Tucker. Both Mr. Tuppy 
and I believed that his summons to the Good Dis- 
cipline Committee on Tuesday last was a trick like 
the first. Mr. Tuppy’s sight is defective, and, in 
addressing you and your colleagues, he imagined 
he was addressing his fellow-students in disguise, 
and men who, in my opinion, had certainly acted 
as contemptible cowards.” 

“But this is a very extraordinary story, a very 


294 


DR. TUPPY 


serious accusation. I suppose you are in a position 
to substantiate your statements/’ 

“When the occasion arises I shall be able to 
prove to you who the ringleader is by his own 
handwriting. I think you will find no difficulty 
in tracing his accomplices.” 

A consultation in undertones followed, much to 
the annoyance of the aged Almoner whose hearing 
was defective. 

“Sister Mary,” said Sir William, “we are sin- 
cerely pleased both on Mr. Tuppy’s account and 
your own, to have heard this explanation. The 
Good Discipline Committee will go into this mat- 
ter further upon another occasion, when we shall 
doubtless need your assistance. I regret, however, 
to say that Mr. Tuppy’s primary offence was even 
of a more serious nature than his apparent im- 
pertinence and misdirected assault, and for that 
primary offence we cannot help feeling that you, 
as a Sister of the Hospital, are to a certain extent 
responsible. Are you aware of the fact that from 
the moment Mr. Tuppy entered your Ward he 
carried on a flirtation with one of your Nurses, a 
certain Nurse Jessop?” 

“I knew that they were attracted by each other, 
and that Canon and Mrs. Tuppy invited Nurse 
Jessop to their house. I couldn’t have prevented 
it if I had tried, and I wouldn’t have tried if I 
could.” 

“Then you are not aware that this flirtation 
developed into an intrigue?” 

“If you mean by intrigue anything of an un- 


DR. TUPPY 295 

seemly nature, no, I was not aware of it, nor do 
I believe it.” 

‘Then you are not aware of the fact that they 
passed a week-end at the Sackville Hotel , Bexhill- 
on-Sea, as man and wife?” 

“Oh, yes, I knew all about that, in fact I saw 
them off and wished them good luck.” 

“And yet you say there was nothing unseemly,” 
asked Sir William in bewilderment. “Great 
Heavens, what is the modern woman coming to?” 

“But surely, Sir William, there is nothing un- 
seemly in a man spending a week-end at the sea 
with his wife?” 

“Oh, that’s it, is it? Nurse Jessop who is down 
on the Hospital books as a spinster, who met Mr. 
Tuppy only a few months ago, of whose wedding 
we have not heard even a rumour, although we 
live in a place which I regret to say is a hot-bed 
of gossip, is really and truly this gentleman’s wife?” 

Mr. Tucker threw back his head with a loud and 
incredulous laugh. Sir William himself indulged 
in an audible chuckle. 

“That doesn’t sound very probable, does it?” 
he asked. 

“Very improbable, Sir William.” 

“Then why did you believe they were married?” 

“Well, for a good many reasons,” replied the 
Little Sister, demurely; “one is that I was present 
at the wedding.” 

Sir William was staggered. He conversed with 
his immediate colleagues in undertones. The aged 


290 


DR. TUPPY 


Almoner whose hearing was defective seized the 
opportunity of reasserting himself. 

“Do I understand/’ he inquired, “that Sister 
Sary — I mean Sister Mary — has been privately 
married to this Mr. Cuppy?” 

Sir William’s expression suggested that if he had 
been armed with a revolver, the aged Almoner 
would have run a serious risk of being shot. 

“Mr. Maconachie, kindly go and explain to the 
gentleman the real situation.” There was another 
pause in the proceedings. 

“Where did the wedding take place?” Sir 
William continued. 

“At St. Mary Abbot’s, Kensington, by special 
licence.” 

“When?” 

“Yesterday week. The day that Mr. and Mrs. 
Tuppy went to Bexhill. This was their honey- 
moon.” 

“Were Canon and Mrs. Tuppy present?” 

“No.” 

“And do you consider it proper, as a Sister of 
this Hospital, as a woman of experience, and of 
maturer years than the other individuals con- 
cerned, to have been a party to a clandestine mar- 
riage, to what was practically a runaway match?” 

“It was a clandestine marriage, but it was in no 
sense a runaway match. Mr. Tuppy does not live 
with his parents. His Aunt, Lady Milner, whose 
heir he is, has adopted him. Lady Milner was 
present at the wedding, and, indeed, brought the 
bride to the church.” 


DR. TUPPY 297 

'Then why all this secrecy?” asked Sir William, 
“the whole thing sounds incredible.” 

The little white mouse was regaining her 
courage. 

“The whole thing is as clear as a pike-staff,” she 
replied, “if you will only give me time to explain. 
Lady Milner and Canon Tuppy are not on very 
good terms, but it is Lady Milner who has the 
control of Mr. Tuppy’s affairs. Canon Tuppy was 
opposed to the match. Lady Milner not only de- 
sired it, but insisted that the marriage should take 
place at once. She had a slight stroke a few weeks 
ago, and she realized that her life was uncertain. 
The publishing of the event would have involved 
Nurse Jessop’s retirement from the Hospital, and 
the loss of her three years’ London certificate, 
which next month becomes due to her, and which 
she is most anxious to gain. In these circum- 
stances, Lady Milner thought it proper and right 
to keep the wedding a secret.” 

“And so you made yourself a party to a course 
of action which you knew the Hospital authorities 
would condemn.” 

“How could I do otherwise, Sir William? Nurse 
Jessop made me her confidante. How could I 
betray her? In this country she has no relatives, 
no friend closer than myself. On such an occa- 
sion, how could I refuse to give her my sympathy 
and support? Her offence at the worst was a 
technical one, and was justified by the circum- 
stances. It was an offence which, as Chairman of 
the Good Discipline Committee, you would doubt- 


DR. TUPPY 


298 

less condemn, but which as a father and friend you 
would feel bound to condone.” 

The tears had gathered in the Little Sister’s eyes 
as she spoke, her voice vibrated with feeling. No 
Counsel at the Bar, with all his logic and rhetoric, 
could have stirred the hearts of these scientists and 
men of affairs like the little white mouse. It was 
Lord Maxwell, the Treasurer of the Hospital, who 
broke the silence which followed. 

“Sir William, I wish, first of all, to thank you 
for taking the chair for me on this occasion. Your 
knowledge of the circumstances has enabled you 
to put the matter clearly before the Court. I va- 
cated my seat to-day partly because I was ignorant 
of the facts of the case and partly, I confess, be- 
cause I was prejudiced on this lady’s behalf. I have 
known Sister Mary for many years. I have a very 
high regard for her, and it seemed to me incredible 
that she should have been guilty of any behaviour 
which would call for our condemnation. I am sure 
every member of the Court will rejoice with me 
on the result of this inquiry. This would be a 
sadder world than it is, if all our generous im- 
pulses, all our feelings and emotions, were to be 
tied with red tape. Rules and regulations are 
made to ensure seemliness and order; occasions 
may arise in which seemliness and order may prove 
rules and regulations to be fallible. I think, if I 
may venture to say so, that in this matter, the 
Good Discipline Committee has acted — well — a 
little previously, so to speak; it has jumped to con- 
clusions, and the conclusions we are bound to ad- 


DR. TUPPY 


299 


mit are erroneous. Fortunately, reparation still 
lies in our hands. We have inflicted no injury that 
we cannot repair. There is only one course open 
to us, and that is, to offer an apology to all the 
parties concerned.” 

A murmur of assent proved that Lord Maxwell 
had rightly voiced the feeling of the Court. Sir 
William Fell responded like a well-adjusted 
weather-cock to the prevailing wind. 

“I have great pleasure,” he said promptly, “in 
echoing the sentiments of our esteemed Treasurer. 
Sister Mary, on behalf of the Good Discipline 
Committee, I offer you an apology; and on behalf 
of this Court of Almoners and Governors, I ask 
you to favour us by returning to the post which 
you so worthily fill.” 

The Little Sister rose and bowed gravely; first 
to Sir William; then to the Court; and then to 
Lord Maxwell with a smile that seemed like a ray 
of light from the heart. 

“This way, if you please, Sister,” said Macon- 
achie; and as Sister Mary left one end of the Hall, 
Nurse Jessop entered by the other. 

“Mr. Maconachie.” 

“Yes, Sir William.” 

“We shall want to see Mr. Tuppy.” 

“I imagined you would, Sir William, and I sent 
down word. I am told that Mr. Tuppy is just 
leaving the Hospital and doesn’t mean to return.” 

“Mr. Maconachie,” said the Treasurer, “go down 
yourself to Mr. Tuppy, give him my compliments 


300 


DR. TUPPY 


and ask him, as a personal favour, to come and tid 
me good-bye.” 

In the meantime, a still smaller white mouse had 
crept up the Hall and taken the chair from which 
the other white mouse had escaped. 

“Nurse Jessop,” Sir William began, “I suppose 
I should say Nurse Juppy — I mean Nurse Tuppy. 
We shall detain you for only a few minutes. We 
suspended you from duty because we believed that 
you had been guilty of — of, well, of very grave 
impropriety.” 

Bella flushed scarlet and burst into tears. 

“You had no right to think anything of the 
kind, Sir William.” 

“My dear young lady, pray compose yourself. 
We were wrong. We offer you our apologies, our 
profoundest apologies.” 

Bella sniffed and dried her eyes. 

“At the same time, my dear Nurse Tuppy, you 
must remember that although you are innocent of 
the offence with which we credited you, you have 
been guilty of a very serious breach of discipline, 
have made yourself liable to dismissal and have 
forfeited your right to a certificate. We could 
never for a moment countenance secret marriages 
between the students and employes of this Hos- 
pital. Having administered this rebuke, I am 
happy to tell you that, largely owing to the mag- 
nanimity and intercession of Lord Maxwell, we are 
prepared to deal leniently with your case. I think 
I am correctly interpreting the sentiments of this 
Court when I say you will be permitted to com- 


DR. TUPPY 


301 


plete your three years at the Hospital, and, if you 
then satisfy the examiners as to your professional 
knowledge and ability, that you will be awarded 
your certificate in due course. You are now at 
liberty to return to your duties.” 

“And we wish you much happiness,” added the 
Treasurer with a kindly smile. 

Bella had received her reprimand with Spartan 
endurance, and with the intention, indeed, of 
making a humble apology, but at the Treasurer’s 
unexpected expression of sympathy she again burst 
into tears and retired without a word. 

The attention of the Court was attracted to 
what sounded like a slight altercation at the other 
end of the Hall. 

“My b-b-business is with Lord Maxwell alone,” 
said a voice, “if he is engaged, I will w-w-wait. 
But I refuse to appear before any C-c-court or 
C-committee.” 

The Treasurer rose from his seat and walked 
down the hall. 

“This is Mr. Tuppy, I think,” he said with a 
gracious bow and a warm grasp of the hand. 

“Pm much obliged to you for your k-kind mes- 
sage, sir,” replied Tuppy quite taken aback, “Fve 
c-come to say good-bye. I’m very s-s-sorry to 
leave. I’ve been awfully happy here — but I’ve 
g-got into trouble. You were very g-good to me 
when I first came to the Hospital. I shall never 
forget it.” 

“And how is the Canon?” said Lord Maxwell, 
“I haven’t seen him for years.” 


302 


DR. TUPPY 


Then he took the young man by the arm and 
walked him up and down. And somehow, every 
turn they took brought them nearer and nearer 
to the tables where sat the honourable members 
of the Court of Almoners and Governors, and then 
Lord Maxwell was seen to return to his seat, and 
Tuppy walked up to Sir William Fell. 

“Before I leave the Hospital/’ he said, “I should 
1-like to apologize to you and to the G-g-good 
Discipline Committee for what must have s-seemed 
to you my very extraordinary behaviour. The fact 
is, the whole thing was a misunderstanding. Na- 
ture, unfortunately, has made me a bit of a f-fool, 
and Nature has given me very poor sight. For 
reasons which I need not explain, I did not believe 
that I was addressing the Good Discipline Com- 
mittee. I apologize. There is nothing else to be 
said. I wish you good-day.” He turned on his 
heel. 

“One moment, Mr. Tuppy,” cried Sir William, 
“favour me with one moment, if you please. There 
is something else to be said. You do not owe us 
an apology, for you acted in ignorance of the real 
facts of the case. But we owe you an apology, and 
we tender it to you now, a complete apology, a 
sincere apology, a profound apology.” 

“Fm not thinking of myself,” replied Tuppy, 
hotly; “but of her, of my wife whom you 
condemned without inquiry, whose purity you 
doubted, whose honour you dared to impugn.” 

“We were in the wrong, Mr. Tuppy, we were 
altogether in the wrong. We have apologized to 


DR. TUPPY 


303 


her, and our apologies have been accepted. We 
have made every reparation that lay in our power. 
Your wife will remain at the Hospital and receive 
her certificate. We cannot do more. ,, 

Then Tuppy smiled and the tears started to his 
eyes. He advanced to Sir William and put out his 
hand. 

‘Thank you,” he murmured brokenly, “thank 
you. ,, 

“Gentlemen,” said Sir William, playfully indulg- 
ing for a moment in rhetoric, “the Good Discipline 
Committee does not pretend to be infallible, but 
far greater governing bodies have been guilty of 
error. Warren Hastings was impeached by the 
House of Commons, and his trial extended over a 
period of eight weary years. We are glad to think 
that Mr. Tuppy’s impeachment, regrettable as it 
is, has extended over only half that number of 
days. Of Warren Hastings it is related that on 
leaving the House, the Commons rose and uncov- 
ered. Gentlemen, we cannot do better than follow 
so worthy a precedent.” 

And so the Treasurer, Almoners and Governors 
rose and bowed to Tuppy, whilst Tuppy, with a 
face quite radiant with happiness, bowed and 
smiled in return. 


CHAPTER XXII 


“So many Gods, so many creeds, 

So many paths that wind and wind, 

When just the art of being kind 
Is all the sad world needs.” 

Ella Wheeler Wilcox. 

I T was Aunt Eleanor’s birthday — the first of 
June — a glorious spring morning which sug- 
gested that summer had come. To Bella the day 
was to bring one of the rarest joys in the world, 
the fulfillment of make-believe, the realization of 
day-dreams, the conversion of a fairy story into 
tangible fact. 

For this was the day on which the Home would 
be opened, the Tuppy Convalescent Home, as 
every one called it except Tuppy himself. 

“It all seems too good to be true, Charlie. ,, 
They were walking together along the old paved 
terrace at Ellerton Grange. The soft sea of mist 
that lay at their feet, was slowly dissolving under 
the warm rays of the sun and revealing the ghostly 
outlines of trees in the valley below. Ellerton 
Grange and its park-land of some five hundred 
acres, the estate which Lady Milner had purchased, 
occupied one of the highest positions in Kent. 

To the little ones who had no knowledge of life, 
304 


DR. TUPPY 


305 


except that derived from the slums of the great 
city or the wards of a Hospital, its keen bracing 
air would seem to be as pure as the ether of space, 
and its meadows and orchards a very Garden of 
Eden. Bella turned her eyes to the blue column 
of smoke which, over the wood on their right, was 
rising straight in the still morning air, and which 
marked the sheltered little nook where the Cot- 
tage Hospital lay. 

“It seems only yesterday,” she continued, “that 
I spoke of it in fun to Aunt Eleanor, and now there 
it is, not only built and equipped, with every bed 
full, but about to be opened officially.” 

“It seems only yesterday that we were married,” 
replied Tuppy, “but I have a suspicion that it’s a 
matter of nearly two years ago.” 

“Oh, Charlie.” 

“Well, twenty months, if you want to be 
accurate.” 

They relapsed into silence, and as their eyes 
watched the rolling away of the mist and the grad- 
ual unfolding of the panorama that lay at their 
feet, their thoughts travelled back to the past. 
There was so much that had happened within that 
short twenty months. One great thing had hap- 
pened, the memory of which made Tuppy draw his 
wife to his side with a tender caress, and so many 
other things had happened which, though trivial 
in comparison, were events in Hospital history. 

Mr. James Mason and Mr. Oscar Smith, in spite 
of Tuppy’s intercession on their behalf, had both 
been rusticated for the term of a year, whilst the 


3°6 


DR. TUPPY 


name of Mr. Dick Baxter, L.M.S.S.A., had been 
permanently erased from the Hospital books. 
Bella had not only passed her examinations and 
received her certificate but had even won the Gold 
Medal. Tuppy himself had acquired certain 
privileges and rights, the most important of these 
consisting in his exemption from serving upon a 
jury, the power of signing a death certificate, and 
the distinction of attaching to his name the initials 
M.R.C.S., L.R.C.P. Henceforth, by every one un- 
acquainted with the fine points of medical eti- 
quette, he would be called “Dr.” Tuppy as a mark 
of respect and not as a sign of derision. He was 
qualified. That was sufficient for Tuppy. 

“I wish you had taken the degree of M.D.,” re- 
marked Bella, whose thoughts had kept pace with 
her husband’s. "Mr. Mason has done so.” 

“Yes, my dear girl, the M.D. of Brussels. To 
the public, of course, the degree of M.D. is ex- 
tremely important, and to the public all M.D.’s are 
the same. But you wouldn’t like me to take a 
degree which really represents less than my own 
qualifications and yet pretends to be more. Of 
course I would have taken the London M.D. if I 
could, but I haven’t the brains. You must re- 
member, Bella dear,” added Tuppy with a smile, 
“that we can’t all be gold medalists.” 

“Do you know, Charlie, that I don’t believe 
much in that gold medal business. I think it’s 
largely a matter of influence.” 

“Oh, rubbish, I suppose you’ll say next that I 
squared Dr. Ramsay with a ten pound note, just 


DR. TUPPY 


307 

as in my younger days I attempted to square 
Sister Mary with a florin.” 

“No, I’ll tell you the sort of thing which I 
imagine may happen. The Treasurer meets Dr. 
Ramsay by chance in the Square. ‘Pm just off 
to the Nurses' examination,' says Dr. Ramsay. 
‘Oh,' says the Treasurer, T do trust you'll have 
a good average, and there's one Nurse who I espe- 
cially hope will succeed, for the Good Discipline 
Committee were a little bit rough on her.’ ‘Who's 
that ?' says Dr. Ramsay, pricking up his ears. 
‘Well, she's the ginger-haired Nurse who married 
that dear funny Mr. Tuppy.' And so the trick is 
done.” 

“Rubbish,” repeated Tuppy. “Dr. Ramsay is a 
gentleman.” 

“My dear Charlie, I don’t mean to say that Dr. 
Ramsay would consciously give an unfair decision. 
It’s all a matter of suggestion. There was a shock- 
ing set of Nurses up for the exam, that time, prob- 
ably we were all equally bad. He comes across the 
ginger-haired girl and is unconsciously influenced 
by Lord Maxwell's remarks. Patent medicines 
largely succeed by suggestion; Christian Science 
largely succeeds by suggestion; Physicians largely 
succeed by suggestion.” 

Tuppy drew his wife tenderly towards him and 
smiled. 

“And our Convalescent Home, dearie, shall 
succeed by suggestion, and this is what we are 
going to suggest. That the world is full of sweet- 
ness and kindness and light, that every ill has its 


3°8 


DR. TUPPY 


compensation; that even the burdens of sickness 
and sorrow, of disease and deformity can be ren- 
dered endurable when surrounded by Love.” 

A scampering of paws and a chorus of barks in- 
tercepted Bella’s reply. Here were “the boys,” and 
there was Aunt Eleanor waving to them from the 
porch. 

“Come in to breakfast, you children !” 

They ran up to the old lady and gave her a 
hearty birthday embrace. 

“I’ve just had a present,” she said in a dramatic 
whisper — “from the boys.” 

There was one harmless fiction in which the 
otherwise practical old lady indulged, namely, that 
the dogs of the establishment were persons rather 
than animals. She allowed “the boys” each five 
pounds a year for pocket money, and seeing that 
their personal requirements were confined to an 
occasional new collar or ball, it is not surprising 
that the names of Towzer, Sambo and Roy figured 
prominently as supporters of the Home for Lost 
Dogs and other kindred Societies. “The boys,” 
for their part, through the medium of Champion 
and Mortimer, and Mona, with the assistance of 
Tuppy, never allowed a birthday to pass without 
laying gifts at their mistress’s feet. They were al- 
most invariably presents for which she had no pos- 
sible need except to pass on to somebody else, but 
this vicarious enjoyment was all part of the game. 
The butler prised open the lid of the case which 
bore the inscription: 


DR. TUPPY 


309 

“To Aunt Eleanor, with much love and many 
wags from Towzer, Sambo and Roy.” 

“Well, Mortimer, what is it this time?” 

“It seems like a large box of toys, my lady.” 

And so indeed it proved to be — of toys of every 
sort, size and description. 

“I expect, my lady,” continued Mortimer with 
imperturbable gravity, “that the boys imagined £hat 
if you didn’t want them yourself you might give 
them to the children at the ’Ome.” 

“That’s just what I should like to do, Mortimer, 
it’s very thoughtful of them indeed.” 

Then they sat down to breakfast, but Lady 
Milner still looked expectant. 

“Mona has been too seedy to go up to town to 
buy you a present,” said Tuppy, in answer to her 
glance of inquiry, “but she’s written you some 
verses and you’ll find them under your plate.” 

“La! la! and I’ve left my glasses upstairs.” 

“Let me read them to you,” said Bella, unfold- 
ing the paper. “They’re headed To dearest Aunt 
Eleanor,’ and they are signed ‘Mona.’ ” 

“Dear little Mona,” murmured the old lady lean- 
ing over the table to listen. 

“And this is what they say,” continued Bella. 

“Tm not as young as I was, dear Aunt, and my eyes are 
becoming dim, 

My muzzle is turning a trifle grey, and I’m lacking in vigour 
and vim; 

But my tail has preserved its youthful wag and my heart 
is still happy and true, 

And so, dear Aunt — always barring the tail — I think I am 
just like you. 


310 DR. TUPPY 

‘At hunting, I know, I’m not so keen, and rabbits are not 
so rife ; 

And you, I suppose, ne’er caught, dear Aunt, a rabbit in all 
your life; 

But my ear still cocks with a saucy look, and I stick to my 
friends like glue, 

And so, dear Aunt, always barring the ear, I think I am 
just like you. 

‘But age cannot touch the wag, dear Aunt, of a doggie that’s 
free from guile, 

And age cannot dim the kindly light and the joy of the 
winning smile; 

For the mind that is loving and true and good, is the mind 
that can never grow old; 

And Time cannot dull the Soul, dear Aunt, or wither the 
Heart of Gold.’ ” 

The tears came into the eyes of the emotional 
old lady. 

“That's just like you, dear," she said, rising from 
her chair and kissing Tuppy on the forehead, “just 
like you." 

“I've nothing to do with it, Aunt Eleanor, I 
merely read the thoughts in Mona's eyes. You 
must thank her for them." 

During breakfast they discussed the coming 
events of the day. 

“I'm glad the Canon will be with us," Lady 
Milner remarked in conclusion, “although I tell 
you frankly, I would never have met him if he had 
not withdrawn his name from that horrible So- 
ciety for the Defence of Scientific Research. But 
we must let bygones be bygones. And now you 
children had better be off. I'll join you at one, 
but not a moment before, for I mean Bella and 
you to do all the receiving." 

So Bella and Tuppy started off at once for the 


DR. TUPPY 


3ii 

Home, and that they did so proved to be well. 
Excited at the prospect of the great event of the 
day, the children had got out of hand and were 
trying the patience and skill of the two youthful 
Probationers. Sally Chandler was fractious and 
had refused to have her knee-splint adjusted by 
any one but Dr. “Tupny” himself. Mary Wright 
was in tears because she was the only one of the 
children who would be confined to her bed. 

But on the arrival of Bella and Tuppy the at- 
mosphere cleared, Sally Pally said she was sorry, 
Mary Wright dried her eyes on learning that, al- 
though confined to her bed, she would witness the 
ceremony; tears yielded to smiles and chaos to 
order. By eleven o’clock the little ones were all 
dressed and arrayed in their smartest of garments. 
Visitors had been invited to make their inspection 
from mid-day until one, at which hour Lord Max- 
well would declare the Home to be open. 

The first guest to arrive was Mr. Trundle the 
curate. He was shown into the Reception Room 
to find Tuppy in his shirt sleeves on the top of a 
ladder. 

‘Tve just put the finishing touch, Mr. Trundle,” 
Tuppy remarked, coming down from his perch, “a 
representation of our old Hospital shield. I think 
the Staff will appreciate it.” 

“Dear me, what a beautiful room!” 

“It's a play-room for the children and me. You 
see, Pve got my dear old piano here. The room is 
really detached from the Home and not a sound 
passes from one to the other.” 


3 12 


DR. TUPPY 


“One could hold Divine Service in it with 
dignity and respect,” cooed Mr. Trundle com- 
placently. “The fact is,” he continued, “I came 
early to-day on purpose to offer you some texts for 
the walls, and to suggest that I should afford your 
little patients daily religious instruction. I am 
willing to give you my services as Honorary 
Chaplain.” 

“It’s awfully g-good of you, but I d-don’t think 
we shall n-need one.” 

“ Dear me! not need a Chaplain! But I presume 
the inmates will be confined to the offspring of 
Members of the Church?” 

Unfortunately Mr. Trundle had struck exactly 
the note that Lady Milner, with her Theosophical 
tendencies, and Tuppy, with his broad-minded 
humanity, so deplored in the Clergy. 

“Our patients,” he replied with some warmth, 
“will be the children of the slums, and whether 
their parents are Christians, Jews, Turks, Infidels 
or heretics they will be equally welcome. We are 
not having them here to teach them religion, but 
to try and make them happy and well. As a mat- 
ter of fact, if it will give you any comfort to know 
it, the Nurse will read the universal prayer, the 
Lord's Prayer, morning and night in the Wards. 
Apart from that, the only religion we shall teach 
them is the religion of Love.” 

The Curate's face fell. 

“And the texts,” he asked anxiously, “mayn't I 
send you some texts?” 

“Our walls are covered with them,” replied 


DR. TUPPY 


3i3 


Tuppy with a smile. “There's one painted over 
the door — ‘Use all things gently' — a very appro- 
priate place for it; and one over the mantelpiece — 
‘A little thing is a little thing, but faithfulness in 
little things is a great thing.' And there's another 
of my favourites." 

The Curate looked at the inscription on the wall 
and read: “ ‘There is so much bad in the best of 
us, And so much good in the worst of us, That it 
ill behoves any of us To find fault with the rest of 
us.' But, my dear Mr. Tuppy, you can't call these 
texts. They all come from secular authors." 

“You could found an excellent religion on them, 
Mr. Trundle. But you’ll excuse me, I'm sure. 
Our guests are arriving." 

What happened afterwards seemed all like a 
dream, the details of which Tuppy only partly 
remembered. He was conscious of making the 
same little round and of making the same explana- 
tion over and over again. This Ward with six cots 
in it, was for the little boys, and this was the Ward 
for the girls, with six beds and a cot; and this was 
the room where the Nurse sat at night so as to be 
in communication with both Wards at once. And 
this was the day-room where the children had their 
meals. And here was the kitchen, and there were 
the bath-rooms, and those — no, they had better 
not go in there — those were the Nurses’ private 
apartments. And if they would step outside they 
would see the Isolation Ward. No, it was not for 
the children who were naughty, but for those who 
might show any symptoms or signs of infectious 


314 


DR. TUPPY 


disease. And this was the play-room, or music- 
room, whichever they liked to call it; and if they 
would kindly sit down there and wait, at one 
o’clock they would witness the little opening cere- 
mony. 

And then came the news that the special train 
from London had duly arrived. There was quite 
a procession of people whom Bella and Tuppy wel- 
comed at the porch of the Home. Here was Mr. 
Tucker, full of smiles and urbanity, with Sister 
Mary on one side of him and Mrs. Wright on the 
other. Here was Murray with other Hospital men. 
Here were Canon and Mrs. Tuppy, and Francesca 
with her husband Sir Julian, and here in the rear 
came Aunt Eleanor escorted by Lord Maxwell, 
Sir James Chudleigh and Sir William Fell. 

“Ah! Mr. Tuppy,” said Sir William, “it’s some 
time since we met. Did you ever hear of the lines 
T do not love thee Dr. Fell, The reason why I 
cannot tell’ ?” 

“I th-thought you’d forgiven me, Sir William,” 
stammered Tuppy. 

“So I have, my boy, so I have, but you’ll rob 
me of what is now a pleasant memory if you ask 
me to forget.” 

The celebrities made their round, and their quick 
experienced eyes grasped at once all the skill and 
solicitude that had been spent on the arrangements 
of the Hospital Home. 

A few gracious and tactful words from Lord 
Maxwell completed the ceremony. Then came an 
awkward pause. The guests gazed at Tuppy as if 


DR. TUPPY 


315 

expecting a reply, and Tuppy turned red and 
gazed at the guests. 

“ You’ll have to say something, Charlie,” whis- 
pered Bella in his ear. 

Tuppy’s lips twitched with nervousness, but ever 
faithful to the commands of his lady he stood up 
like a man. Then from the throats of the twelve 
little patients, their friends and relations, of the 
Hospital Staff, of visitors young and of visitors 
old there burst forth such a volume of cheers as 
made the music-room ring. 

“L-lord Maxwell, 1-1-ladies and g-g-gentlemen. 
Th-th-this is a day of g-g-great happiness to all 
of us. On behalf of the 1-little ones I th-th-thank 
you for c-c-coming here. I th-th-thank you from 
the b-b-bottom of my heart.” And then without 
more ado, Tuppy sat down at the piano and played 
“God Save the King.” 

Luncheon followed promptly at the Grange, for 
the special train to London returned at four 
o’clock. Sister Mary was the only visitor who 
stayed behind. 

“I’m glad they all came,” said Bella, “but I’m 
glad they’ve all gone. It seemed like a whirlwind, 
and now there is peace.” 

“It’s been a tremendous success,” said the Little 
Sister, “and you ought to be grateful. They saw 
everything, and appreciated everything. The 
memory of to-day should be a crown to your 
happiness.” 

“Ah, they only saw the setting, Sister. Come 
with me and I’ll show you the jewel.” 


3 j 6 


DR. TUPPY 


The jewel was found upstairs in the care of a 
special custodian in the shape of a Nurse. Its lips 
proclaimed it to be a ruby, its eyes suggested a 
sapphire, and its hair, such hair as it had, was of 
gold. 

“He takes after you, Bella.” The mother made 
some cryptic remarks at which the baby crowed 
with delight. 

“Look at him now, Sister. Isn’t it splendid? 
He’s got Charlie’s beautiful smile.” 

Then they sat in the garden and talked, until 
the shadows began to grow long. 

“Charlie must have returned from the station 
by this time,” said Bella at last, “let us look for 
him down at the Home.” 

“Mr. Tuppy,” said the Nurse, “is in the music- 
room with the children.” 

Bella opened the door and beckoned to Sister 
Mary. 

“Look at the Pied Piper,” she whispered. 

The room was bathed in the golden light of the 
setting sun. Tuppy was seated at the piano. A 
child on each side with an arm round his neck. 
Mary Wright lay in her bed a few yards away, with 
eyes brimming over with joy. Some of the chil- 
dren were dancing, some beating time with their 
hands. Tuppy’s face was a picture of smiling de- 
light. He had sown Kindness, he was reaping a 
harvest of Love. 


THE END 


i m 2 ! 1912 


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